


Holding On To You

by we_are_all_irrelivant



Category: Homestuck
Genre: 's like a goddamn king sized comforter set, Autism, Autistic!Dirk, Dirk has autism!!, Fluff, M/M, and Jake takes care of him!!, and its great and good and pure and i love it!!, dirk has ptsd btw, his dads shitty, i dont know, im really only posting it because i want it to get more attention, not in the goddamn slightest, some stupid drabble i wrote up a while ago, straight up unadulterated grade a fluff, thats all it is, thats it, theres.....some shit, this is just, update: it aint fluffy anymore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-19
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-05-02 08:16:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 54,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5241230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/we_are_all_irrelivant/pseuds/we_are_all_irrelivant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>no ok but im gonna come up with a better summary soon after i write more maybe but all you need to know now is that its autistic dirk + his boyfriend/caretaker jake and its just really cute and nice and fluffy ((or i dont know ~i~ think it is we'll see)) ill probably end up writing more. maybe. it depends on how you guys like it</p><p>((4/3/16: ok guess what its not just drabble anymore it has more of a story now also its not all that fluffy anymore its actually kinda depressing))</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

When Dirk woke up, the other side of the bed was empty. He stretched out his hand and lightly brushed the wrinkled sheets, still warm and smelling of Jake. He'd probably only gotten up a couple of minutes ago.

Dirk groaned softly and briefly pressed his face into his pillow before he sat up groggily, his eyes only half open. He rubbed the heel of his palm against his eye and yawned. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood, rubbing his arms. The house got cold during the night, and he only slept in a thin tank top and shorts. Dirk padded from the room into the kitchen, where Jake stood stirring a cup of coffee. Dirk came up from behind him and slipped his arms around his waist, burying his face in the other boy's shoulder.

"Oh. There you are. Hey," Jake said, looking back and smiling when he saw Dirk.

"Hi," Dirk whispered. He pressed his face harder into Jake's shoulder, humming softly and rocking back and forth. Jake breathed a soft chuckle then craned his neck around to kiss him on the forehead. Dirk grinned, a quiet squeal rising in his throat. He gently pursed his lips against Jake's neck then pulled away and patted Jake's side. "Good," he said softly.

"Good?" Jake asked as he turned around.

Dirk nodded. "Good."

Jake smiled. "Good." He leaned forward and slowly kissed Dirk, bringing his hand up and cupping the other boy's cheek, his palm still warm from the coffee mug. Dirk smiled against his lips and kissed him back, slipping his hands around Jake's waist. Jake pulled away for a moment then kissed him again on the lips and then once more on the cheek. "What do you want for breakfast? Do you want tea?"

Dirk nodded, sitting cross-legged on the floor and leaning against Jake's leg. "Chai?" he asked softly, pressing his face against his bare calf.

"Sure."

Dirk hummed quietly while Jake made the tea, rocking slightly from side to side and drumming his fingers against the ground. He followed him with his eyes as he bustled around the kitchen, getting out the milk and honey and cinnamon so he could make it the special way Dirk liked. As he waited for the tea to steep, Dirk patted the ground with one hand and reached up towards Jake with the other. "Sit with me."

Jake sat across from Dirk, who automatically reached over and intertwined his fingers with the other boy's. Jake smiled and scooted forward a bit, taking Dirk's other hand. He rested his forehead against Dirk's.

"Hi," Dirk said softly.

"Hi," Jake breathed.

"I like you."

"Is that so?"

Dirk nodded. "I like you a whole lot. Because you're nice. And cute. And I like you."

Jake laughed lightly. "Really."

"Mmm hmm."

"Well, that's good, because I like you, too," Jake said, moving to press his lips to Dirk's forehead. The other boy gasped softly as Jake rose to go turn off the tea. He brushed his fingers over his forehead and smiled, humming happily. He looked up at Jake for a moment, then stood himself and went to go sit in front of the sliding glass back door. A couple of minutes later, Jake came by and handed him his mug of tea. Dirk took it and kissed Jake's thumb as a thanks and then took a small sip. Jake sat beside him, his own cup of coffee in his hand. They stared out at the backyard together, the trees of the woods behind their fence turning brilliant shades of red and orange and yellow. There was already a pretty impressive layer of fallen leaves on the ground and many more still on the trees' branches.

"This is good," Dirk murmured to himself, setting his mug on the ground between his legs.

"Hmm?" Jake asked.

"The leaves." Dirk pointed, rocking side to side a bit. "They're good."

"Capital G or lowercase?"

"Capital," Dirk said, pressing his hand against his mug, letting the warmth leach into his palm. "They're Good."

"Yeah. I think they're pretty, too," Jake said, sipping from his coffee. "I like the ones that are closer to yellow. The ones that have only just started to turn."

"Orange. I like orange."

Jake smiled. "Of course. The orange ones are good, too."

Dirk nodded, taking a drink from his tea. "They're all good."

"Mmm." Jake leaned over and pressed his lips to Dirk's cheek. "I gotta get going soon. Are you gonna be alright by yourself today?"

"Yeah. I have stuff to do. I gotta work on Lil Hal.I haven't done much with him in a while."

"Oh yeah? How's he coming along?" Jake asked as he stood and took his cup to the kitchen.

"I'm almost done. I've only got a couple more lines of code to write and a couple circuits to connect, 'nd then he'll be finished." Dirk looked down and smiled, swirling the last bit of his tea in his cup. "I like him. He's cool."

"He sounds cool. I can't wait to see how he turns out." Jake walked back to their room and came out a couple of minutes later dressed in a green and blue plaid button-down and dark wash jeans. Dirk smiled when he saw him and stood to go hug him.

"You look cute," he said, running his fingers over the button-down's soft, thick fabric.

"Thanks." Jake kissed him on the forehead. "You're gonna take care of yourself today, right? Make sure you eat enough? Take a shower if you can?"

Dirk nodded. "Mm hmm." He squeezed Jake tighter, resting his head on the other's chest. "Library," he murmured quietly.

"Yeah. That's where I'm going." He gently curled a finger under Dirk's chin, lifting his head so that he could peck him softly on the lips. "Bye."

"Bye."

Dirk watched Jake walk to the front door and gave him one more small wave before he left. He looked around for a moment before he went back into the bedroom. He took as long a shower as he could manage, then changed into one of his favorite hoodies, a soft, old orange one that was a couple sizes too big, and a pair of baggy jeans. He dragged his laptop and the pile of wires and circuit boards that was Lil Hal from the closet into the living room, where he sat and worked on coding the rover until about 1, when he got a text from Jake asking if he'd eaten yet. He had not, so while the program incorporated some of the new code, Dirk made himself a small breakfast/lunch.

As he ate, he looked out the back door again and after slipping on a heavier jacket, stepped outside. He picked up a couple of leaves, large ones with vibrant colors, and took them inside, lining them up on the kitchen table. He took one, the largest one, with orange and red splotches, and set it on top of Lil Hal while he continued to work until he heard the front door open at 4. The program was incorporating the last bit of code when Jake came and sat next to Dirk.

"Hi," he said, leaning over and kissing Dirk on the cheek. "What're you working on?"

"He's almost done," Dirk said, leaning forward to type something into the computer. "He's just gotta incorporate a little more of the code, 'nd then he'll be almost finished."

"Oh yeah? Sounds pretty cool."

Dirk nodded. "Yeah." He sat back for a moment then looked over at Jake. "I got some leaves earlier."

"Yeah?"

"Mm hmm." He pointed at the kitchen table. "Some of the big ones. They're orange. And a couple yellow. Because you like the yellow ones. Right?"

"Yeah, I do. That's cool." Jake watched him work for a minute, then stood and walked into the kitchen. "Did you eat today?"

"Yeah, I think so. A couple hours ago," Dirk said, setting Lil Hal's remote controller on the ground beside him. "Right after you texted me."

"Good," Jake said, coming back into the room. Dirk looked up at him and pushed aside his laptop and reached for Jake. The other boy sat across from him and took his hands in his own.

"Hi," Dirk whispered, rocking from side to side ever so slightly. "Hi."

"Hi."

"Hi."

"Hi." Jake raised his eyebrows. "What is it? You look fidgety."

"I wanna go somewhere."

"Ok. Where to?"

"Um..." Dirk looked down, gently pressing his nails into the backs of Jake's hands. "Th..,. The...   
aquarium."

"You want to go to the aquarium?"

"Mm hmm." Dirk looked down, wiggling his toes. "Sh-sharks. Th-they have sharks, r-right?"

"Yeah, they do," Jake said, nodding. "Remember? You saw them a couple weeks ago. Is that it? You want to see the sharks?"

Dirk nodded. "Y-yeah."

"Ok. Yeah, we can go. Did you take a shower today?"

"Yeah," Dirk said softly. "Soon as you left."

"Good.." Jake brought the back of Dirk's hand to his lips. "Let me change first, and then we can get going."

Dirk nodded, watching Jake stand. While he changed, Dirk picked up all of his Lil Hal stuff that had been strewn across the living room floor. He stashed it back in the closet and after lingering for a bit, opened the back door again and slipped outside. He picked up a handful of other leaves, smaller but with more striking colors, and then sat beneath the thin maple by the fence. He looked at the new leaves he had collected and just stared at them for a couple minutes until he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Here you are," Jake said when Dirk looked up. "You ready?"

Dirk nodded, looking back down at the leaves in his lap. "Mm hmm."

Jake squatted down to Dirk's level. "You got some more leaves, yeah?"

"Mm hmm. Th-they're not really that big, but... they've got good colors." Dirk picked one up, a streaky, goldish green one, probably blown from the tree by a strong gust of wind, and held it out to Jake."Th... This one's for you."

"Is it?" Jake took it and turned it over in his hands. "Thank you. It's pretty."

"You said you like the yellow ones," Dirk said softly, sounding almost unsure. It sounded right, but he couldn't quite remember.

"That's right, I do. Thanks." He leaned forward to gave Dirk a soft kiss on the lips, then stood up. "We can take these inside, and then we'll go, ok?"

Dirk nodded, and then stood as well. He set the leaves on the kitchen table along with the older ones and then followed Jake into the garage. On the way downtown, Dirk kept tapping his feet on the floor mats and sway from side to side, the way he did when he was excited. Jake didn't mind; if anything he found it cute and a little amusing. When they got to the aquarium, Dirk was practically vibrating in his seat. He clung to Jake's arm as they walked in, humming quietly in his throat.

"Ok," Jake said once they had gotten their tickets, "what do you want to see first?"

"Um..." Dirk looked around at the exhibits, gnawing on his finger. He pointed at the one across from them. "That."

"The rivers?"

"Mm hmm."

"Ok. Whatever you want."

The two went into the rivers exhibit, where Dirk gasped softly when he saw the caimans and started bouncing excitedly when he saw the electric eels. The tanks full of dense schools of giant silver fish made his head feel weird, so they moved on to the oceans section. That was the part of the aquarium Dirk really liked. He ran up to the tank with dozens of brilliantly colored tropical fish, pressing his forehead to the glass and humming happily. Jake only smiled at him, amused and happy to see Dirk so joyful. About halfway through the exhibit, Dirk came up beside Jake and tugged gently on his sleeve.

"Yeah? What is it?"

Dirk hummed softly, searching for the right sound. "Ss... Shh... Sh-shark. Ss."

"You want to go pet the sharks now?"

Dirk nodded, bouncing up and down ever so slightly. "Y-yeah."

"Well, then let's go, then."

The two walked into the other room, circular, with tanks lining the walls and in the middle, a giant waist-tall floor tank that held miniature dogfish sharks and adolescent stingrays. When Dirk saw the tank, he squealed softly, clinging onto Jake's arm tighter.

"Sharks," he breathed.

"Yeah," Jake said as they approached. "We're gonna go pet them. Do you remember how to?"

"Two fingers. Don't touch the heads or the tails or the fins. No grabbing or splashing."

"Good job," Jake murmured, kissing Dirk gently on the cheek.

"It scares them," Dirk continued, walking over to the tank and grabbing hold of the sides. "Splashes scare them. Touching near the head scares them, too. The tails are too sensitive for touching."

"Yeah. And the two fingers is to minimize the chance of them getting spooked and attacking," Jake said as he came up beside Dirk.

"Minimize the chance of attacking," Dirk mumbled back, leaning forward a bit over the water. "Minimize the chance."

"Mm hmm."

"I don't see any over here," Dirk said quietly, standing on his tiptoes a little.

"You have to wait a little bit. Sometimes they're shy."

"Sometimes shy," Dirk whispered back under his breath, rolling back down onto his feet. "Sometimes shy. Jake?"

"Yeah? I'm right here. What is it?"

"I like sharks."

Jake smiled and gently nudged Dirk's arm. "I can tell."

"They're cool." Dirk rapped his fingernails against the metal edge of the tank. "Th... They're c-cool." He hummed softly and nodded his head, starting to rock back and forth a bit. "C-cool."

Jake stepped to the side and tightly wrapped his arms around the other boy from behind, pressing his lips against his neck.

Dirk slowed down a bit, humming softly and squeezing one of Jake's arms. "Cool."

"Yeah. They're cool." Jake kissed Dirk's neck. "Can you tell me how? I don't know a lot about sharks."

Dirk nodded. "They... They h-have live offspring, the way people do. S-some of them. Even though they're fish."

"Really? That's interesting. Do you know why?"

"N-no. Not really." Dirk bit his lip. "I-I think it might have something to do with how much energy it takes to develop the embryos. But I'm... not sure."

"That's ok." Jake reached up and gently brushed some of Dirk's hair back from his forehead. "What else can you tell me?"

"They can't stop swimming," Dirk said, stopping his rocking and gently knocking his fists against Jake's arm. "They don't have any swim bladders, so if they stop they don't have anything to keep them afloat. Plus if they stop moving water doesn't flow past their gills and they can suffocate from lack of oxygen." Quietly, he added, "But not all sharks."

Jake nodded towards the tank. "What about these guys? Do they have to swim all the time, too?"

"Um. I don't think so. They're pretty small, so maybe not, but I don't think they live anywhere where they'd be able to breathe on their own. But I don't really know about these ones."

"Mmm." Jake craned his head forward to see around Dirk's shoulder. "Hey, I think there's one coming this way."

Dirk gasped softly and leaned over the edge of the tank again.

"Roll up your sleeve."

Dirk did, and as the young shark lazily swam past, he reached into the water and brushed his index and middle fingers against the shark's smooth slick side. He looked back at Jake excitedly, so ecstatic he could hardly speak. He pointed vehemently at the tank, making soft but urgent grunts.

"Yeah," Jake murmured, lightly patting Dirk's hip. "I saw. It was pretty nice, wasn't it? Do you want to touch another one?"

Dirk nodded, looking back at the tank and reaching down to pet another shark. He got to pet a couple more before Jake said they should start heading out. Dirk frowned a little, but he didn't protest. As they walked out, Jake leaned over and gently kiss him on the cheek.

"You can get something small from the gift shop if you want," he offered.

Dirk nodded, chewing gently on his finger. "Sh... Shark."

Jake nodded. "Alright."

Jake bought him a small plush shark, and as they walked to the car, he was a little glad Jake made them leave, as he was already yawning and leaning heavily on the car as Jake searched for the keys.

"You tired?"

Dirk nodded, rubbing his eye with his fist. "Kinda."

"Do you wanna sleep in the back?"

"Y... Yeah."

"Ok."

Dirk ended up sleeping curled up in the back seat, his new shark clutched in his arms. When they got home, Jake didn't hesitate to pick him up and carry him into the house. Dirk, half awake, nuzzled his face against Jake's shoulder, humming softly. Jake carried him into their bedroom and gently laid him on the bed, placing his shark beside him.

Jake kissed his forehead gently, brushing back some of his hair. "Are you going to bed?"

Dirk could only groan groggily in response, curling into a tighter ball. After a moment, he held up his hand, signing ‘n.’. 

“ Just a nap. Ok. Call if you need anything,” Jake said softly, giving him one more kiss on the head before he left and shut the door. 

A couple of hours later, around 9, Dirk woke up and came padding into the living room, looking for Jake. He was sitting on the couch, half paying attention to the TV while he worked on something on his computer. Dirk grunted softly, timidly walking up to the couch and leaning over the back.

"Oh. Hey. You're awake. Did you sleep well?"

Dirk nodded, rubbing his eye. "H... Hungry."

"Oh, yeah. It has been a while since you ate." Jake looked back at Dirk. "Do you want me to make something for you?"

"I can make it myself."

"Ok," Jake said, turning his attention back to his work. "Be careful."

Dirk made himself a small sandwich, then came back and sat next to Jake as he ate. He glanced over at Jake's laptop and watched him type for a moment before he softly asked, "What's that?"

"A paper for class." Jake was working on getting his degree in history, and took night classes most days of the week.

"What's it about?"

"It's about how pottery indicates what things a culture finds significant or sacred. Nothing too interesting."

Dirk nodded. He was silent for a moment, when something dawned on him.

"Am I distracting you? D... Do you need to focus?" Dirk asked shyly.

"No, no, no, don't worry. You're fine," Jake reassured him, looking up from his work and gently patting Dirk's leg. "You can stay with me. I don't mind."

Dirk nodded, relaxing back into the couch. He laid his head on Jake's shoulder, watching him type for a while. After some time, Jake shut his laptop and leaned over to kiss Dirk's forehead.

"Hi," Jake said.

Dirk smiled. "Hi." He pulled his legs up to his chest, snuggling into Jake's side. "Guess what?"

"What?"

"Come here."

"Why?" Jake asked, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smile.

"Come here. I gotta tell you something."

"What is it?"

Dirk shook his head. "No, it's a secret. You gotta come here."

Jake shook his head, then leaned over a bit. "Fine. What is it?"

"I love you," Dirk whispered in his ear.

Jake smiled. "I love you, too."

"I love you," Dirk repeated softly, moving to put his head on Jake's lap.

Jake started gently petting Dirk's hair. "I know. I love you, too."

Dirk rolled over so that he was on his back, looking up at Jake. "I love you." He raised his hand and brushed it against the other boy's cheek. "I love you."

"Mmm. That's good, because I love you, too."

A small smile spread across Dirk's lips. He closed his fingers together on each hand and gently tapped his fingertips together, signing 'kiss.'

Jake leaned down and gently pressed his lips to Dirk's. The other boy grinned and gave him one more kiss before he whispered, "I love you."

"I love you, too."

 


	2. Chapter 2

Dirk lay beside Jake in bed, staring up at the ceiling. A glance at the soft blue numbers on the alarm clock told him that it was almost 3:30 am. He hadn't been able to fall asleep since they both got into bed around midnight.

This happened often. Dirk would get tired sometime during the day, usually in the afternoon, and Jake would let him sleep for a few hours. Then, he would wake up at night, usually 9 or 10, just as Jake was starting to get tired himself. They would go to bed, but Dirk would stay up for hours, unable to make himself tired enough to fall asleep until at least 4 or 5 am. His internal clock, Jake had told him once, was set to the wrong time. And he couldn't figure out how to reset it.

Dirk rolled over, facing Jake. The other man was fast asleep, his stubbly, tanned face relaxed and his breathing slow and steady. His lips kept twitching every so often, almost like he was trying to say something. Jake had a tendency to mumble in his sleep sometimes. He seemed to be embarrassed by it, always denying it whenever it was brought it up, but Dirk thought it was cute.

Dirk watched him for a few moments more and then stuck the tip of his tongue out.

“Cute,” he murmured. “You're cute.” He sat up and pushed the blanket off from his legs. He stood and padded into the hallway, rubbing his arms in the cold of the house. He slid on a longer pair of pants and pulled one of his hoodies out of the closet and then slipped on his shoes. He grabbed the lanyard that held his set of keys from the rack by the door and stepped outside. Jake had told Dirk he was allowed to go outside if he wanted when he couldn't sleep, but he needed to lock the door when he left. They lived in a pretty good neighborhood, but you could never be too careful, especially this late at night.

Dirk locked the door, humming softly under his breath, and then slid the lanyard around his neck. He looked around, the street almost pitch dark except for the streetlamp several meters away. He brought one of his fingers to his lips, nibbling on it gently before he decided to go to the left. It was darker down there, the opposite direction of the street lamp, but he'd memorized the layout entire block, and half of the entire neighborhood, so he was fine until he got a couple of streets over. He buried his hands in his pockets, the night air crisp and cold. The wind rustled through the treetops above him, making a few stray leaves flutter down. The floodlights of their neighbor’s house came on as he passed. A dog barked faintly somewhere far away. He liked being outside this late. It was peaceful. The knowledge that everyone around him was safe and asleep, in the places they knew and called home, made him feel nice. It made him feel safe too.

Dirk kept walking until he reached the small empty lot a handful of blocks away from their house. It was in front of a section of the woods with a path that led to a huge clearing full of wildflowers. Dirk liked it there, and they sometimes had picnics out there. Dirk walked silently along the path, brushing his hands over the trees on either side of him. He could just barely see by the light of the half full moon, but it was alright. He wasn't usually very afraid of the dark, plus he knew the way well.

He walked out into the middle of the field and looked around, gently biting his fingers. He sat down gently, brushing aside some of the leaves on the ground. He lay back, staring up at the dotted sky. He watched a plane cross behind a cloud, its red and white lights blinking rapidly.

“Hi,” he whispered softly to himself, the sound of his own voice seeming to echo in the still silence. “Hi.” He turned his head to the side, the scent of the dark dense earth in his nose. He closed his eyes, letting the peace of the night and the darkness seep into him. He felt the cold breeze whisked across his cheeks and the dew from the grass soaking into his thin pajama pants. He didn't care, though. He was too focused on trying to breathe in the night.

Dirk felt himself nodding off once or twice, and after waking himself up for a third time he sat up, a little groggy and starting to get tired. He yawned and stretched a bit before he stood up. As he did, he caught sight of a small bushel of delicate baby blue flowers a couple of yards away, so bright they seemed to glow in the dim moonlight. Dirk made a soft inaudible gasp and reached for them, snapping off a few blossoms. He sat up back down and took a few more, holding them to his chest protectively. He looked around the clearing and picked a few more flowers, including a couple of orange-red ones with deep black centers and one with a long slender stalk and a head full of tiny white flowers that looked like lace. He looked down at them and smiled a little. Maybe Jake would like these. He wasn't sure, though. He hoped he did.

But nonetheless, Dirk stood up and, putting the flowers in his pocket and trying his best not to crush or fold them, started walking back home, his eyes starting to grow heavy. By the time he got back to the house and was unlocking the door, he was yawning about every minute or so and rubbing at his eyes. He finally got the key in the lock and entered the house, still pitch black and dead silent. He took off his shoes and his hoodie, putting the flowers on the dining table, padded back into their room and slid under the covers beside Jake. He was still there, only he'd rolled over so that he was facing the other wall. The alarm clock read 4:17.

“Hi,” Dirk whispered to his sleeping form. “I'm back. I got you some flowers.”

Jake only snored quietly in response. He shifted a bit so that he was on his back, face turned towards the ceiling.

Dirk smiled a little. “You can see them in the morning.” He snuggled a little closer to Jake, closing his eyes as he drifted off to sleep. “You seem like you're tired right now.”

When Dirk opened his eyes again, the room was bright, sunlight streaming in through the blinds. He pressed his face into the covers a bit, groaning softly and closing his eyes. The faucet was running in the other room.

After a minute, it shut off and he heard a door open. “Hey, sleepyhead,” Jake said, his voice growing louder as he approached. “You awake yet?”

Dirk nodded, pulling the covers up to his nose. “Bright,” he mumbled.

Jake sat on the edge of the bed, clad in his pajama pants and a t-shirt. He reached over and rested his hand on Dirk's head, brushing back some of his hair. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah,” Dirk said, stretching up to kiss the inside of Jake's wrist. “Pretty good.”

“Good. What time did you fall asleep? Do you remember?”

Dirk held up a four. “I went out.”

“Mmm. Did you remember the door?” Jake said, continuing to stroke Dirk's hair.

“Mm hmm. I got you some flowers. They're on the table.” Dirk pointed towards the door. “In the kitchen.”

“Did you? Are they pretty?”

Dirk nodded. “I think so.”

“Good.” Jake started to stand, but Dirk grabbed his wrist.

“Wait, I g... gotta tell you something,” he said, stumbling over his words a bit. He tugged on Jake's arm. “It's important.”

“What is it?” Jake asked, bending back down.

Dirk pulled Jake's ear close to his mouth and quickly kissed him on the cheek before he whispered, “I love you.”

Jake chuckled softly. “I love you, too.” He gave Dirk a gentle kiss on the forehead before he straightened up. “Are you gonna get up now?”

Dirk nodded, rubbing his eye once more before he pushed the blanket off of his legs and stood. He held his arms out to Jake. “Hug.”

Jake wrapped his arms around Dirk, squeezing him tightly. Dirk hugged him back just as hard and pressing his forehead into the other man’s chest. After a moment he looked up at Jake and brushed his hand against his cheek and stood on his tiptoes a bit to kiss him.

“Hi,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around Jake's waist and rocking back and forth a bit. He hummed softly, closing his eyes and resting his head in the crook of Jake's neck.

“Hey,” Jake murmured back. He brushed back Dirk's hair and kissed the top of his head.

“Tall.” Dirk had been considered pretty tall as a kid, and he wasn't really all that short now, but Jake was still a good three or four inches taller than him. Dirk didn't really mind, though. He liked being able to be enveloped by him. He liked feeling small sometimes.

“Yeah.” Jake ran his fingers through Dirk's hair for a moment before he pulled back. “Are you hungry? Do you want breakfast?”

Dirk nodded, gently gripping the fabric of Jake's shirt. “A little bit.”

“Ok. Can you go brush your teeth and wash your face while I make it?”

“Yeah. D-- Don't forget the flowers,” Dirk said softly as Jake untangled himself from him. “Th-they're on the table.”

“I won't,” Jake reassured him as he left. “Don't worry. You go get ready.”

Dirk went as brushed his teeth and wiped his face down with a washcloth, just like Jake asked. He lingered in front of the mirror for a bit, staring at his reflection. His small, “kind of squinty” bright orange eyes looked back at him, dark grey circles under them from his past sleeping troubles. His bright blonde hair was starting to get pretty long, almost past his ears. It'd been awhile since he got it cut. He couldn't stand the sound of the scissors in his ear for more than a minute, so going and getting it cut was always a chore that might lead to overloading. He had a spray of freckles across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose and a handful scattered across his neck and his arms, just like his brother Dave. He was mostly indifferent towards them, but Jake though they were cute, so he supposed they were alright. Jake always told him he was cute, but he wasn't entirely sure if he believed him. He'd never really thought he was all that much to look at anyways. But he appreciated it.

He dried off his hands and paused to pull his hair back into a small ponytail and then walked out into the kitchen to join Jake. He picked up one of his spinner rings from the bedside table and was playing with it absentmindedly as he approached Jake. He was standing in front of the stove, stirring a bowl of tan batter, and there were several blobs of it sizzling on the frying pan.

“P...” Dirk mumbled. “P-pan...”

“Pancakes,” Jake finished. “Yeah.” He looked back at Dirk. “Are those ok?”

Dirk nodded. “Yeah.” He sat down next to Jake and leaned against his leg as the pancakes cooked, spinning his ring and gently rocking back and forth. Once they were done, Jake told Dirk to go sit at the kitchen table while he got everything ready. He did, gently bouncing in his seat and flapping his hands a little. His flowers from last night had been put into a small vase half full of water. He tugged a petal off of one of the orange ones and nibbled on it.

“Don't eat those,” Jake said as he came and sat down at the table across from Dirk, putting a plate in front of him and setting the pancakes beside the flowers.

Dirk whined softly, taking the petal out of his mouth. “S-sorry.”

“It's ok. I just don't want you to get sick, is all.” Jake said, reaching over and taking Dirk's hand. “Which one do you want?”

Dirk pointed at one of the pancakes and Jake put it on his plate. The two ate together in almost silence for a while until Dirk started rocking and looking out the back door, indicating that he didn't want to sit for much longer. Just as Jake was about to ask him if he wanted to go sit on the floor, Dirk looked back at him, chewing on his finger.

“Library?” he asked softly. He'd seen the time and knew it was close to when Jake usually left for work.

Jake shook his head. “No, not today. I have the day off.”

“Really?” Dirk asked softly, perking up a bit.

“Mm hmm. I don't really have anything to do today until 8.”

Dirk smiled a little, bouncing one of his legs. “Good.”

“Capital G?”

Dirk nodded. He leaned over and took one of the flowers from the vase and then sat down on the floor. He beckoned for Jake to join him, handing him the flower once he did.

“You,” Dirk said quietly, holding out the flower with two fingers.

“Thank you,” he said, taking it and examining it. “You were right, they are pretty.”

Dirk gently tugged on his earlobe and when Jake tucked the flower behind his ear he hummed happily.

“What do you wanna do today?” Jake asked. “Do you want to go out or stay at home?”

“You?” Dirk asked hesitantly.

“Don't worry about me. I'm fine with whatever you wanna do.”

Dirk nodded, looking down at his lap. He bounced his leg as he thought and then mumbled, “Out.”

“You want to go out?”

Dirk nodded. “L... Library.”

“You wanna go to the library?” Jake asked.

“B-books,” Dirk explained. “I wanna get some more robotics books.”

Jake nodded. “Mmm. Alright. Ok. You can go get dressed while I clean up. Ok?”

“Ok.” Jake stood and helped Dirk up as well. Dirk reached out for Jake and hugged him once before he turned and padded back to their room to get dressed. He stripped off his tank top and his pants, humming softly to himself as he did. He wiggled into a clean-ish pair of jeans, and then lingered for a moment, looking down at his pale naked chest. You could see his sternum and most of his ribs pretty well, and the skin over his stomach was taut and sunken. Skin and bones, Jake called him. He was right; he was barely 135 soaking wet, even though he was almost 6 foot. He wasn't this thin on purpose, though. It was the result of years of picky eating and even forgetting to eat for days on end. Since he and Jake had been living together, he'd gained a little weight due to Jake constantly reminding him to eat, but he was still technically underweight. Dirk didn't really mind himself, though. He thought it was kinda cool that he could see his bones through his skin, but at the same time he tried when he could to eat, to make Jake happy.

Dirk pulled on a thin t-shirt and then dug one of his hoodies from the closet. It was one of his older ones: a darker, pumpkin orange one with fraying around the sleeves from him chewing them and a soft warm interior. Jake must've just washed it recently, because it also smelled like their laundry detergent, a scent Dirk could only describe as “blue.” He slipped it on, pressing his nose into the sleeve and smiling. He pulled his hair out of the ponytail he'd put it in and ran his fingers through it a couple times, making it stick up the way he liked it to. Once he was done, he went back out into the living room, where Jake was leaning against the counter, a steaming cup of coffee in his hands. He was staring out the back door, mumbling softly to himself. The flower was still behind his ear, but with about half of the stem clipped off.

“Oh. Hey,” Jake said as Dirk walked up. “Can you wait here for a sec while I go change?”

Dirk nodded. He watched Jake walk away, and then sat down on the ground. He noticed an orange petal a few feet away from him. It must have fallen from the one Jake had. He picked it up with two fingers, turning it over and examining it for a moment before he put it on his tongue. It was a little bitter, but by the time Jake came back out he'd already swallowed it.

“Ready to go?” Jake asked, looking down at Dirk.

Dirk nodded, reaching up for Jake. Once he was up, he suddenly hugged Jake again, holding him tightly and pressing his head against the other man’s chest.

Jake let out a soft laugh. “Hi there. What's up?”

Dirk just shook his head, soaking in Jake's warmth. “Good,” he whispered nearly inaudibly before he pulled away.

Jake brushed Dirk's hair back and gave him a kiss on the forehead. “C'mon.”

Dirk followed Jake out to the car, bouncing gently as he waited for him to find the keys. Even though Jake wasn't working and he'd been to that library a thousand times, it still felt like something of a field trip to him. At the very least, it was a nice change of scenery. The whole ride there, Dirk was babbling about Lil Hal, and how once he was done with him he might try and get some more books and some more kits to make him even mode advanced, or maybe even start working on some other projects.

“Th-there's one I've been planning on making for a while now,” Dirk continued as they pulled up to the library. “He's... different from Hal. Little less advanced. But he's still good.”

“Do you know what kind of robot he'll be?” Jake asked as he climbed from the car.

Dirk shook his head, sliding from the passenger seat and going over to loosely wrap his arms around Jake. “I'm not really sure yet. Might be another rover or something. But maybe a... um... uh...” Dirk squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to remember the word. “A... automaton? I-is that the word?”

Jake nodded, lightly rubbing Dirk's back. “Yeah, I think so. That sound really cool. Do you need some more kits?”

Dirk shook his head. “N-no, not yet. Want to finish Hal all the way first.” Dirk looked up at the library and was quiet for a moment. He pointed at it, looking over at Jake and grunting softly.

“Yeah. Let's go inside now, yeah?”

Dirk pulled away from Jake and slid his hand into the other’s. He gnawed gently on his finger as they walked in, the old but familiar scent of books and coffee hitting him. He hummed softly, tugging on Jake's arm.

“Books,” he mumbled around his index finger.

Jake chuckled gently. “Yeah. There are a lot here. You wanna go find some?”

Dirk tugged lightly on Jake's arm again. “Come?”

“In a second. I want to go ask my manager about some work stuff.”

Dirk nodded, drumming his fingers against the back of Jake's hand before he let go and padded off towards the instructional books. He'd already read most of the books there, but there were a handful he wanted to reread. By the time Jake came over, he had already parked himself in the middle of the aisle and collected several stacks of books and manuals. When Jake walked up, Dirk looked over at him and scooted to the side a bit so that he could sit as well.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” Dirk murmured, flipping to the next page of the manual he was reading.

“What you looking at there?” Jake asked, leaning over a bit so he could see.

“Programming manual. There were some sequences of code for Hal that I couldn't remember.” Dirk turned to another page and was quiet as he skimmed it. He pulled out his phone and typed something out while he set the manual on a growing pile of books to his right and grabbed another one from the one on his left. “I'll be done in a sec.”

“It's ok. Take your time. I'm alright.” Jake gently kissed Dirk on the cheek. “I'm gonna go get some things of my own.”

Dirk nodded without looking up. “Ok.”

After an hour, Dirk had a good collection of instruction books and manuals sprawled around him and all across the aisle, and after two he'd read through most of them. After almost three, he'd managed to narrow his choices down from almost thirty to just 14--still a lot but not the most he'd ever gotten at any one time--and he was ready to go. He picked up his books, struggling to hold them all in his arms, and wandered around looking for Jake. He found him in the fiction section, reading through a thick novel. Dirk carefully set his own books on the ground and gently tugged on Jake's sleeve.

“Oh, hey. Are you done now?”

Dirk nodded. He pointed at the book Jake was holding. “What's that?”

“Oh, it's just a new novel I've been wanting to check out. Are those all the books you want?”

“Yeah. There wasn't a lot I needed to look up.” Dirk kneaded the sleeve of Jake's shirt in his fists. “You?”

“Yeah, I'm ready. Here, let's go check these out.” Jake tucked his book under his arm and helped Dirk pick up all of his. They checked them out, using Jake's card since Dirk had lost his months ago, and went back to the car, Dirk humming softly with his new books in tow. When they got in, Dirk leaned over and kissed Jake on the cheek as he clicked on his seatbelt.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

“It's no problem. I like seeing you happy.” Jake started the car and pulled out of the library. “You wanna get something to eat and then go back home?”

Dirk nodded. But about five minutes into the drive, he looked down at his stomach and furrowed his eyebrows. “H-hungry?” he asked softly, sounding somewhat confused.

“You should be,” Jake murmured. “It's been a few hours since you last ate.” He glanced over at Dirk and smiled. “Food’s important. You need to eat.”

“Ok.”

After they stopped for food they went back home, and Dirk dragged one of his weighted blankets from the closet and parked himself on the couch to read through his new books. Jake came out and joined him after a while, sitting in front of the couch and typing up something for his classes. Around 5 or 6, Dirk set down his book and leaned forward, gently gripping Jake's hair and watching him type over his shoulder.

“Hi,” he whispered, kneading Jake's short black hair between his fingers.

“Mmm, hi. What's up?”

Dirk hummed low in his throat, brushing back Jake's hair. He gently pressed his lips to his forehead and grunted quietly. “H... hi.”

Jake tipped his head back and smiled up at him. “Hey.”

“Kiss?”

Jake moved his head up to press his lips against Dirk's. The other boy smiled and kissed him again, sliding one of his hands under Jake's chin. He kissed him a little harder this time, closing his eyes. Jake chuckled softly against his lips and brought his hand up to brace the back of Dirk's neck. They kissed for a few more moments until Dirk pulled away, draping his arms over Jake's shoulders.

“I love you,” he said softly, resting his lips against the top of Jake's head.

“I love you, too,” Jake murmured, turning his attention back to his work.

Dirk watched Jake type, his fingers flitting across the keyboard much faster and nimbler that he would ever be able to himself. After a couple minutes he moved to press his face into the curve of Jake's neck, closing his eyes and exhaling softly.

This... was good.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tbh idk why i wrote more of this literally none of you asked for more but i mean i like writing it so i guess just keep an eye out for updates for the foreseeable future


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thats right fuckers i wrote a third one

Dirk sat cross legged on the floor beside Jake, one arm wrapped around his leg, humming quietly to himself. He opened one of his eyes for a moment, looking down at Jake's foot, and then closed it again, sighing softly.

“Hey, you alright?” Jake asked, looking away from his cooking to rest a hand on Dirk's head. “You seem quiet.”

Dirk only shook his head, gently pursing his lips against Jake's shin. “Tired.”

“Do you want to go back to bed?”

“No. I'll be ok.” He looked up at Jake. “Is the food ready yet?”

“Yeah, almost. You wanna try some?”

Dirk nodded, and Jake cut off a small piece of the omelette he was making and handed it down to Dirk. Dirk hummed softly when he ate it.

“Is it good?”

“Mmm hmm.” Dirk wrapped his arms around Jake's leg. “You make good food.”

“Mmm. Oh, yeah, that reminds me.” Jake squatted down to Dirk's level. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Yeah?”

“So. One of my coworkers has a birthday coming up, and I promised I would get something for her this year, so I need to drop by the mall later today.”

Dirk's face fell immediately. He hated the mall. It was usually crowded, and always loud, even with his headphones on, and people always looked at him weird whenever he tried to stim. It was just generally really stressful for him. Over the last five times they'd gone, he'd overloaded twice and almost had a meltdown once.

Dirk groaned softly. Jake reached out and laced his fingers into Dirk's.

“I know. I know. You don't like it there. But I kind of have to go, and I'm not really comfortable with you being here alone. I'm sorry.” Jake gently kissed Dirk's forehead. “But I only have a couple things to pick up. It'll be quick. You'll be alright. Ok?”

Dirk frowned, groaning softly again. He gently squeezed Jake's hand and bounced his leg. After a moment, he sighed softly and murmured, “Ok.”

“Thank you.” Jake cupped his cheek and kissed him firmly. “I appreciate it. If you want, you can get something there.”

Dirk shook his head. “No, I'm ok. When are we leaving?”

“Not until two, at least. We've got some time.” Jake reached over and ruffled Dirk's hair. “Don't worry. You'll be alright.”

Dirk whined softly, reaching out to wrap his arms around Jake's waist. He pressed his face into Jake's shirt and then let him pull him to his feet. Jake let him eat in the living room, so he sat cross legged on the couch, picking absentmindedly at his food while he watched TV. He still wasn't extremely excited to go to the mall, but, he decided, since Jake had to go and wanted him to as well, it would be alright. He supposed.

Dirk looked down at his plate, still half full of food that he'd ended up shuffling around and picking at. He set it on the ground and twisted around to look at Jake, sitting at the table. He stretched out his hand and whined softly for him. The other man looked up at the sound and came over, leaning over the back of the couch and putting his arms on Dirk's shoulders.

“Hi,” Dirk said softly, tipping his head back to look up at Jake. He loosely wrapped his hands around  Jake's wrists.

“Hey. What's up?”

He shook his head. “Hug.” He stood on his knees and turned around, lacing his arms around Jake's waist and pressing his face into his chest.

Jake exhaled a soft chuckle and hugged him back, running one hand through his hair. Dirk hummed low in his throat, closing his eyes and smiling a bit.

“Hi,” Dirk whispered, giving Jake a gentle squeeze. He drank in the other man’s warmth and presence, running his fingers over the familiar fabric of his shirt. The two stood like this for a few minutes until Jake pulled away to look at him.

“You ready to go yet?” Jake asked gently.

“Yeah.” Dirk paused for a moment. “I can... get something there too, right?”

“Yeah. If you see something you want.” Jake gently ran the backs of his nails down Dirk's spine. “I know I'm asking a lot of you, so consider this my thanks.”

Dirk nodded. “Ok.”

“Alright. Go get your stuff and then we can go. Ok?”

Dirk nodded firmly and gave Jake one last squeeze before he went to go search for his headphones and his stim toys in their bedroom. His headphones, an expensive, wireless noise-cancelling pair Jake had gotten for him a while back, were still in Jake's computer bag from earlier. Even though he knew how on edge he'd be the entire time they were there, he only took a few of his stim toys: one of his spinner rings, two of his Tangles, and one of his chew toys. He had a tendency to misplace things, and he didn't want to risk losing too many of them. If these weren't enough to keep him calm, he'd just have to deal with it. Dirk slid his headphones around his neck, flapping his hands gently. He went back out to Jake, who had already shrugged on a jacket.

“Hey.” Jake hugged him once before he went to go open the garage door. “Do you want me to hold any of your stuff for you?”

Dirk grunted softly, holding out one of his Tangles and stuffing the other one into his pocket along with his ring. Jake put them securely into his own pocket and then reached over and hugged Dirk once more before they got in the car.

“Thank you again for being so cooperative,” he murmured, pressing his lips to Dirk's forehead.

Dirk smiled a little, resting his head against Jake's chest. “I told you, I'll be fine.”

“I know. But still, thanks.” Jake untangled himself from Dirk. “C'mon. It won't be as busy if we get there sooner.”

During the drive there, Dirk felt a small kernel of dread and anxiety start to grow in his chest, getting a little larger by the minute as they got closer to the mall. It was starting to eat away at the remaining spoons he had, which were already a bit diminished from him getting even less sleep than usual. He put his headphones over his ears as they pulled into a parking spot, trying to suppress the feelings.

“You alright?” Jake asked as he opened the passenger side door.

Dirk nodded. “Ok.” He didn't need to mess everything up when they'd only just gotten there.

“Alright. Good.” Jake slid his hand into Dirk's as they started off towards the building. “I think you should stick with me for the time being, unless you feel up to it. Is that ok?”

Dirk nodded again, the familiar sense of discomfort starting to come back to him as he picked up on the look and sound and smell of the crowds. He tightened his grip on Jake's hand a bit.

As the two wandered about the mall, Dirk found himself pressing towards Jake more as people came narrowly close to touching him. He started gnawing on his index finger, too nervous and on edge to try and reach for any of his stim toys. Once they actually got inside of the stores, it wasn't so bad and Dirk was able to relax a tiny bit. He bounced lightly on his toes as Jake looked around, slipping on his spinner ring and flicking it noisily. From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of another person a few yards away staring in his direction and he slowed down a bit, clenching the hand with the ring into a fist. He kept his eyes to the ground and started trailing Jake more closely after that.

After an hour or so, the anxiety in Dirk's chest had grown significantly and he could feel himself starting to panic a bit. He kept trying to push it down, shaking his head and mumbling softly to himself. The stress of it all was starting to get to him; his stomach had been hurting for the past half hour and his words seemed to be stuck in his throat. But he didn't want Jake to notice. He wasn't going to mess this up for him. He wasn't going to be a burden to him this time.

Dirk looked up from the keychain he was messing with, locating Jake a couple of yards away talking to a salesperson. He'd said he was stepping away for a second, but he was within sight so it was fine. Dirk looked back down, humming quietly in his throat to try and push down the discomfort he felt. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jake walk out of the store. He whimpered softly and rushed to follow him. If they got separated, he was going to overload for sure, and he didn't like running out of spoons in public.

Dirk followed Jake into a thick crowd of people. It was loud and hot and everyone kept bumping into him, and he couldn't wait to reach Jake. Except, when Jake turned around only then did he realize it wasn't him. Dirk stopped mid step, a sharp wave of panic hitting him. He looked around frantically, trying in vain to find Jake, but there were too many people around him. The flow of people he was in didn't stop and he was roughly pushed and shoved to towards the wall. His headphones slipped off his ears, but he couldn't move his hands to replace them. He winced at the sudden loudness of everything, only able to feebly press his hands over his ears. He back up until his back was against the wall, starting to tremble. He squeezed his eyes shut, struggling not to scream out loud. He could tell he was starting to have a panic attack, and the tightness in his chest only made everything worse. He could barely feel the tears on his cheeks as he started crying. Oh god, he wanted Jake so badly. But he couldn't even muster the energy to scream for him, much less try and text him. All he could do was sob harder, shaking like a leaf.

But then suddenly, someone had their arms around him, hugging him tightly and running their fingers through his hair. They had his face pressed into their shoulder and murmured quietly into his ear.

“It's ok,” they whispered almost inaudibly. “You're ok. I'm here now. You're alright.”

For a split second, a bolt of fear went through Dirk, until he smelled the familiar scent of Jake's cologne. He started crying harder in relief, leaned into Jake's embrace a bit more. He kept trying and failing to take a big enough breath to say something, but Jake stopped him.

“Shh, it's ok. Don't speak. You've been through a lot. C'mon, let's go somewhere quieter.” Jake took one of Dirk's hands and led him outside into one of the mall’s courtyards. Jake sat on one of the benches and pulled Dirk into his lap, hugging him to his chest again. He pressed his lips against Dirk's forehead and kept one hand rubbing small circles on his back, while the other ran through his hair. The entire time, Jake gently rocked him back and forth, murmuring softly into his ear until his grip on Jake's shirt relaxed a bit. Pretty soon, he had his hands curled loosely against the other man's chest, his eyes closed.

“You feeling better now?” Jake asked quietly, still stroking Dirk's hair.

Dirk nodded, kneading Jake's shirt in his hands. He sniffled softly, wiping his hand against his eye and fingerspelling ‘home’.

“Yeah. We're gonna go home now.” Dirk shifted over and let Jake help him to his feet. He held Jake's hand tightly, gnawing on his chew toy as they went back to the car. Jake let him lay down in the backseat, curled up in ball and letting the rocking of the car soothe him a bit. By the time they got home, he'd started nodding off a little. After episodes like this, he was always super wiped out and exhausted and usually fell asleep afterwards. Jake carried him into the house and sat down on the bed with him, holding him on his lap and combing his fingers through his hair again. Dirk rested his head against Jake's chest, chewing gently on his finger. They sat there like that for several minutes, neither of them talking, content with each other's company. After a moment, he whined and quietly mumbled, “S-sorry.”

“It's ok. It's not your fault. I shouldn't have made you go if you didn't want to,” Jake replied gently, kissing the top of his head.

“But I...” Dirk put his head in his hands, struggling to find the words. “I didn't-- I... M-messed up. I messed up.”

“No you didn't. What happened wasn't your fault. I was the one who kept pushing you go. I would have been alright going later this week.”

Dirk only sighed softly, closing his eyes.

“And besides, if you were feeling anxious, we could've left earlier. Why didn't you tell me?”

“I didn't wanna mess up your stuff.” Dirk opened his eyes and picked at a loose thread on Jake's shirt. “I'm always... making you do a bunch of extra stuff so that I don't have a meltdown or take a bunch of extra steps so I'm not upset or whatever. I didn't want to do that this time. I didn't want to be a burden.”

“Woah, hey, no. You're not a burden. You never were. What made you think that?”

“I can't even take care of myself for a week on my own. I always have to depend on you for practically everything. That's not... That's not how it's supposed to...” Dirk pressed his forehead against Jake's chest again and sighed softly.

“Shh, no, don't think like that. There's nothing wrong with you. That just happens to be the way you are. It's not anything bad. It's just... how you are. Y'know? And I take care of you because that's my job. I'm supposed to make sure you eat when you need to and sleep when you need to and whatever else you need help doing. There's no shame in needing help or having help. Whatever it takes to make sure you're healthy and happy.”

“But why?” Dirk asked softly, his voice small and timid.

“Because I love you. Ok? Are you listening to me?”

Dirk nodded a bit.

“Ok. I take care of you and I put all this time and energy into making sure you're ok because I love you. Ok? I'm your caregiver, yes, but I'm also your boyfriend. I can't not take care of you.”

Dirk sniffled softly, tears having collected in his eyes again. He didn't even know why he was crying. He moved his head up so that it was pressed into the crook of Jake's neck. “What about you?”

“I'm fine. Don't worry about me. I like making sure you're happy. That's what makes me happy. Ok?”

Dirk nodded gently, wiping the back of his hand across his eye. He shifted a little closer to Jake and slid his arms around his waist. The other man held him as well, gently rubbing circles on his back.

“It's ok,” Jake murmured. “You're ok.”

After a little while, Dirk had fallen asleep against him. Jake kissed him once on the top of his head before he laid him down on the bed. He let him sleep while he made them both dinner. Dirk slept for a couple hour, until around 7 or 8. He stirred, and then sat up slowly, a little bit disoriented. He whimpered softly for Jake, gently kneading at the sheets. Jake came in a few minutes later and when he saw Dirk he smiled. Dirk whimpered again and held out his hands, grabbing for him. Jake came and sat down next to him.

“Hi,” he said. “Are you feeling better now?”

Dirk nodded, rubbing his eye. “S... sleep?”

“Yeah, you fell asleep. But that's ok.” Jake gave him a kiss on the forehead. “Do you want something to drink? Are you hungry?”

Dirk nodded, bringing his finger to his lips to chew on it. He looked over at Jake and after a moment of hesitation leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

Jake smiled. “Hi,” he said softly, reaching over to lightly touch Dirk's leg.

For a few moments, they just looked at each other, Jake staring into Dirk's burnt amber eyes, Dirk staring into the other’s emerald green ones. Dirk himself usually hated making eye contact, but Jake's eyes had always been so piercing and beautiful that he couldn't help but stare. He was so mesmerized that he was scarcely breathing when Jake leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. Dirk blinked a few times, shaking himself from his trance, before he kissed him back. Jake pulled away after a second, a small smile on his lips, and helped Dirk up. “C'mon. We can eat in the living room if you want.”

  
Dirk went with Jake into the kitchen and they sat and ate in the living room just like he'd promised, Dirk swaddled in one of his weighted blankets while Jake sat on the couch behind him, gently brushing back his hair. After they were done, Dirk crawled up next to Jake, where they cuddled until Dirk had fallen asleep again and Jake himself was starting to nod off. He looked down at Dirk's sleeping form and smiled a bit. He brushed a stray lock of hair away from his forehead and held him a little closer to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haa im not((?)) gonna go back nd edit this even though i know there are some shitty parts because ((and only because)) i dont want do. i have other shit to do. for example, writing a fourth one ((because i hate myself and want to die))


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ppft this is whatever man i dont even fuckin know yall kept asking for more ((WHICH THANK YOU BY THE WAY I FUCKING LOVE ALL OF YOU)) so uh here have this  
> i think? this is technically unfinished so expect an update or two within a couple days

Dirk laid next to Jake, his arms wrapped around his waist and his head resting on his chest. He had his eyes closed, humming contently as Jake played lazily with his hair. He could hear the other man's heartbeat in his ear, almost in sync with his own. Their legs were tangled together and Dirk felt safe and warm in Jake's strong embrace. He gripped the back of Jake's shirt a little harder, smiling to himself.

 

“Hey,” Jake murmured softly. “You awake?”

 

“Mm hmm.”

 

Jake nodded. After a few seconds, he shifted a bit and slid his arm tighter around Dirk. “I think we should get married.”

 

Dirk furrowed his eyebrows and sat up a little. “What?”

 

“We should get married,” Jake said. “I mean, we've together for a while now. It wouldn't really change much. It could be fun.” He looked down at Dirk. “But it's just an idea.”

 

“Mm... Maybe. I don't know.” Dirk rested his ear on Jake's chest. “What would it... Would it change anything?”

 

“No. Not really. You'd just be Dirk English, or I'd be Jake Strider, if you want to keep your last name. And I'd be your husband instead of your boyfriend.”

 

“Hmm.”

 

“It's ok if you don't want to. It's just a thought.” Jake pressed his lips to the top of Dirk's head. “We're fine the way we are anyways.”

 

Dirk didn't say anything. He closed his eyes, listening to Jake's heartbeat again. Later on, he was watching Jake as he worked on a paper for his classes. Did he want to marry him? He certainly did love him enough, but he'd never really thought much about marriage. It seemed alright, for the most part, but something about it was still making him apprehensive. Maybe it was the permanence of it all. Not that he was scared of committing to Jake--they'd already been dating for almost three years--but it all just felt so... official. It felt too... “grown up,” for lack of a better term. Marriage was for fully functioning, well-adjusted adults who had jobs and houses and took care of themselves. Not for... him. Not for someone who had barely even managed to get past 18. It was for people like Jake.

 

“J... Jake?” Dirk asked softly.

 

“Hmm? Yeah?”

 

“What's it like?”

 

Jake looked up from his laptop. “What's what like?”

 

“Being married. What's it like?”

 

“Well, it's a lot like this, I'd think,” Jake said with a shrug. “Except with more titles, I guess. It--” Jake exhaled softly. “I don't really know how to describe it. It's like... Jane and Roxy. They got married a little bit ago. They're just like they were before, except they call each other their wife instead of their girlfriend. But they're still the same old people. Still do the same old things. It's just... more concrete, I guess. More physical. Does that make sense?”

 

Dirk nodded. “Yeah, a little.”

 

“What's wrong? You still seem kinda worried about something.”

 

“No, it's nothing. I'm fine.”

 

Jake watched him for a moment and then scooted over and patted the ground beside him. “Hey. C’mere.” Jake put his arm around Dirk's shoulder. “What's wrong?”

 

“I don't know, it's just... I don't know. It doesn't seem like something that... people like me do.” Dirk picked at his cuticles. “It feels really... serious.”

 

“Well, it doesn't necessarily have to be very serious. It can just be casual. And there isn't any kind one size fits all marriage. It can be whatever it needs to be for us.”

 

“But I'm not...” Dirk mumbled. “I...” He sighed and leaned against Jake. “It's supposed to be... a m-mutual thing, right? I'm supposed to... at least be able to... take care of myself on my own first or something. Right? Y-you're not supposed to depend on someone when you're married.”

 

“Hey, no, that's not true. Look, if we ever did get married, not much would change. We'd still live together, You'd still do everything you do, and I'd still do everything I do, including taking care of you. Ok? Nothing would ever make me stop taking care of you, ok? You're important to me.” Jake shook his head. “More important than some rings or whatever. If getting married makes you scared, we don't have to by any means.”

 

“I don't know,” Dirk mumbled. “It sounds like it might be kinda nice. Maybe. If it's like what you said.” He smiled a little bit, grabbing Jake's arm. “‘Husband’ sounds a little better than ‘boyfriend.’”

 

“Oh yeah?” Jake smiled and nuzzled his face into Dirk's neck. “That's good. I'd like to call you my husband too.”

 

Dirk giggled, pushing Jake away as he tickled him. “Mmm hmm.”

 

“Yeah. I'd love to marry a cutie like you,” Jake murmured, crooking his finger under the other man's chin, making him squeal. He chuckled softly himself before wrapping an arm around him and kissing his cheek. He ruffled his hair and murmured to himself, “I'm gonna marry you.”

 

Over the next few weeks, Dirk could tell something was up with Jake. He had come home a couple hours late for the past three days, and whenever Dirk asked him why he'd just brush it off. He also seemed a bit more cheerful, spontaneously wanting to dance or cuddle or go out for a walk. He also told Dirk he loved him at least every other day. Dirk was a bit confused by his sudden change of behavior, but he didn't mind; if anything he was a little bit thrilled. He liked all the extra time he was spending with Jake and how much more attention Jake was giving him now.

 

One day in particular, Jake came home a bit earlier, around 3:30 instead of 4. Dirk was lying back on the couch working on the base code for his latest robotics project. When he heard the door, he looked up and smiled when he saw Jake. He reached out for him, whining softly.

 

“Hi,” Dirk said softly, wrapping his arms around Jake's waist as he came up.

 

“Hey,” Jake said, brushing back Dirk's hair. “How was your day?”

 

“Good. Early?”

 

“Yeah. My manager let me leave a little early.” He leaned down to kiss Dirk on the forehead. “I was missing you too much.”

 

Dirk giggled softly, pressing his face into his stomach. He sat up and moved over so Jake could sit beside him. He pointed at his computer screen, excitedly describing what he was working on. Jake listened to him, amused by how cute he was when he started infodump like this. After a moment, Dirk stopped abruptly, staring back at Jake.

 

“What's wrong?” he asked quietly.

 

“Hmm? Nothing.”

 

“You're... W-was I talking too much?” Dirk mumbled nervously.

 

“No. No, not at all. You're just cute when you're like this,” Jake said, taking Dirk's hand.

 

Dirk smiled a little bit. He held open his arms and leaned forward to hug Jake tightly. Jake held him just as hard, running the backs of his nails down his back. Dirk hummed softly, closing his eyes and gripping Jake's shirt. Dirk was the first to pull away after a few moments, turning back to his programming. Jake watched him for a bit before he stood to go into their bedroom. He fished through his side of the closet to find the box he'd hidden in there weeks ago and pulled out what he was looking for. He opened it and examined what was inside for a bit before he put it at the bottom of his bag. He came back out and sat down next to Dirk, leaning over to see what he was typing.

 

“Hey,” he murmured, resting his hand on Dirk’s shoulder and leaning his chin on it.

 

“Hi,” Dirk said back, looking over at Jake and smiling.

 

“You hungry? Did you eat today?”

 

“Y-- Um...” Dirk’s eyebrows knit together ever so slightly. “I think so. Around 12.”

 

“Mm. Yeah, you should eat soon. What do you wanna do for dinner?”

 

Dirk shook his head, not looking up. “Anything’s fine.”

 

“Ok.” Jake leaned over to brush his lips against Dirk’s cheek. “How does a picnic sound?”

 

Dirk inhaled softly, looking over at Jake. “Really?”

 

“Yeah. We could go to that little field you like, the one with the flowers. Does that sound nice?”

 

Dirk nodded excitedly. Picnics for them were a rare, or at the very least uncommon, luxury due to how much work Jake usually needed to do around dinner time. Anytime they were able to have one, Dirk got really excited.

 

“Great,” Jake murmured with a grin. “How about we leave around 5? After you've finished, of course.”

 

Dirk nodded again, turning back to his computer screen. “Ok. I'll be done soon, though. I've only got a couple more lines to write anyways.”

 

“You take your time. I still have to get all the food ready.” Jake gave Dirk one last kiss on the cheek before he stood and went to the kitchen to get started on their dinner. A couple minutes later, Dirk came padding in as well, sitting cross legged beside him. He watched him cook for a while, quietly drumming his fingers against the floor. Dirk noticed something odd, and froze for a bit. He listened, and once he realized what it was he giggled a bit.

 

“You're humming,” Dirk said softly.

 

“Hmm? What'd you say?”

 

“You're humming,” he repeated. “You never hum.”

 

Jake faltered a bit and shut his mouth, his cheeks turning pink. “I was?”

 

“It's cute.” Dirk reached up and tugged on Jake’s pant leg, inviting him to sit. “You never hum.”

 

“I didn't even notice,” Jake said with a soft chuckle.

 

“People hum when they're happy, right?”

 

“Yeah, sometimes.”

 

“What're you so happy about?”

 

Jake only smiled. “Oh, nothing, really. I just am.”

 

“Tell me,” Dirk said, a slight whine in his voice.

 

Jake shook his head.

 

“No, tell me.”

 

“After dinner, ok?” Jake stood up again and went back to his cooking.

 

“Tell,” Dirk mumbled quietly, leaning forward on his hands.

 

“Later,” Jake said gently. “Here, why don't you go get ready?”

 

“Dress clothes?”

 

“No, just outside clothes. Maybe something warmer. It's a little chilly.”

 

Dirk nodded, using Jake’s arm to pull himself to his feet. He padded into their room, where he dug through the closet until he found a cleaner shirt and a pair of jeans. He pulled them on and after a brief moment of hesitation, took one of Jake’s old jackets. He paused for a moment to press his face into the sleeve, drinking in the scent of him underneath the smell of dust. When he went back into the kitchen, Jake already had everything finished and was putting it all into a cooler. Dirk approached him from behind, grabbing onto one of his arms and whining softly.

 

“Hi,” he said quietly.

 

“Hey. You ready?”

 

“Mm hmm.”

 

“Great. Here, let me grab my coat and then we can go. Can you get the cooler?”

 

Dirk nodded, slipping away from him so that he could grab the cooler from the counter. It was a little heavier than he expected, and he struggled to hold it as he walked into the living room to join Jake. The other man had on one of his long black coats, the ones that Dirk said made him look like a detective, and had one of their knitted blankets in his arms. When Dirk approached he took the cooler from him and handed him the blanket to hold.

 

“Ready?”

 

Dirk nodded firmly, hugging the blanket to his chest. He followed Jake out the door, looking around their front yard while he waited for him to lock the door. There were some small haphazard piles of leaves scattered across the grass and on top of their little white mailbox. He shivered a bit as a cool gust of wind hit him. Jake had been right.

 

“C’mon,” Jake said, taking one of Dirk's hands and leading him down the steps.

 

Together they walked down the street hand-in-hand, Dirk babbling about this circuit board or that line of code while Jake simply listened and watched him, amused and a little in awe of how much he loved him. This wasn't the first time something like this had happened. For the past week Jake had been periodically spacing out while Dirk was talking, suddenly caught up in the way his eyes were lighting up or the way his cheeks stretched when he smiled and how much he loved it all so much. That was why he was so secretly ecstatic to finally be able to do this.

 

Jake let Dirk lead the way to the clearing, as he himself wasn't too accustomed to the route. When they arrived, Dirk broke out in a small smile and tugged gently on Jake hand to move faster.

 

“Don't worry, I'm coming,” Jake said with a grin. He let Dirk pick out the spot (a little to the left of the middle, just under a big sprawling maple) and sat beside him after he'd spread out the blanket. He unpacked the cooler and together they feasted on sandwiches and orange soda, Dirk humming cutely as he ate. When they had finished, Jake let Dirk wander around the field, squatting down every so often to examine the flowers or pick up a few leaves. Jake watched him for a bit, all the while silently psyching himself up. He slid his hand into his pocket and fingered the small velvet covered box in there. This was it. He was going to finally do it.

 

“Hey, Dirk,” he called. “Can you come here for a second?”

 

Dirk looked up from the leaf he was holding and nodded, padding back over to the blanket. He sat down cross legged, putting his leaf in the pile with the others and staring at Jake. “Yeah?”

 

“Come here,” Jake said, gesturing for him to sit a little closer. When he did, Jake gently took both of his hands in his and looked up at him, a small, shy smile on his lips.

 

“Hi,” Dirk murmured.

 

“Hi.”

 

“What's wrong?”

 

“Oh, nothing. Don't worry. I just wanted to ask you something.”

 

“What is it?”

 

Jake smiled a tiny bit. “Well... um...” He exhaled softly. “First I have some stuff I want to say.” Jake scooched a bit closer to Dirk and held on tighter to his hands. “Dirk.”

 

“Mm hmm?”

 

“I love you.”

 

“I love you too,” Dirk replied.

 

“I know. But I've loved you for much, much longer than I first thought. Now that I've thought about it, I realized I fell in love with you as soon as I met you, all those years ago. Do you remember it?”

 

Dirk nodded. “Yeah. You were at the library, helping me with my books.”

 

“Mm hmm. Yeah. And as soon as I saw you, I knew I wanted to get to know you. And... eventually I did. You were 21. You didn't have a job. You were living with your friend and her girlfriend. You were single.”

 

Dirk smiled, nodding. “Yeah.”

 

“Which was great for me, because I was pretty sure I'd already fallen head over heels for you by our second date. And it turns out, I had. Because I love you. I still love you just as much as I did when we held hands for the first time, or when we kissed for the first time, or when I told you for the first time. It's never wavered. I--” Jake paused for a moment, closing his eyes. He sniffles softly, wiping a stray tear from the corner of his eye. Dirk whimpered in concern when he saw this.

 

“No, it's-- It's ok. I'm ok,” Jake said with a soft laugh, giving Dirk's hands a reassuring squeeze. “I'm ok. I just... I love you. I love you so much. I almost can't explain, there almost aren't enough words to describe how much I love you. You just mean so much to me. I can't stand to see you hurt, or upset, or alone, or-- or anything besides happy. And I know that I make you happy-- right?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“Yeah. And I want to be able to keep making you happy. I-I want to stay with you. Forever. Or at least as long as I can. So...” Jake closed his eyes and took a soft breath, trying to calm his rapidly beating heart. “So this is why Im asking you...” He pulled the ring box from his pocket and flipped it open, showing the simple silver engagement band inside. “Dirk Strider, will you marry me?”

 

Dirk stared at the ring before him, his mind still trying to comprehend what was going on. He looked back up Jake as the words finally sunk in and gasped softly, putting his hand over his mouth. He glanced back down at the ring once more before nodding furiously, tears welling up in his eyes.

 

“Is that a yes?” Jake asked, unable to keep the joy from his voice.

 

“Mm hmm. Yes.” Dirk laughed a bit, looking down and nodding again. “Yes.”

 

“Good,” Jake said with a grin.

 

Dirk lunged forward, wrapping his arms tightly around Jake and pressing his face into his shoulder. Jake held him, still giddy with joy. He pressed his nose against Dirk's neck and kissed him gently before murmuring, “I love you.”

 

“I love you too.”

 

 

The two hugged like that for a few moments, until Jake pulled away. He was still beaming when he gestured for Dirk to hold out his hand and slid the ring onto the other man’s left ring finger.

 

“See? Now we match,” he said, holding out his own hand and showing off his own silver band.

 

When Dirk saw this he smiled and looked up at Jake. “I like it.”

 

“I thought you would,” Jake murmured. “Come here.” He pulled Dirk into his lap and hugged him once more, rubbing his back and pressing his face into his hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;) part 5?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey just in case u thought shit was happy in this au
> 
> its not

Dirk stood, frozen. He was trembling hard and his vision was blurred with tears. It felt like time had frozen. He couldn't breathe. His chest was tight and he wanted to scream. He was panicking. The shattered plate on the ground was just a blur of white. He could feel tears running down his cheeks and dripping on his nose, but he couldn't move. Jake was talking to him, trying to calm him down, but he couldn't hear it. He had snapped at him just then. He was tired, he kept saying, and he didn't mean it, but Dirk had flinched badly nonetheless and ended up dropping the plate. The sound, the loudness of it all, combined with the yelling make him freeze. Suddenly, he could remember it. All of it. All of _him._ His father.

 

“No...” Dirk whimpered. “No, please...”

 

He took a step back, his ears filled with the cottony sound from his memories. He could still hear his father voice as if he were right there. He could still hear all the anger and loathing. Jake was trying to say something to him--he could see his lips moving--but when he moved, Dirk flinched hard.

 

“No, I-- I'm sorry-- I d-didn't--” Dirk gasped. He took another step back before he turned and ran down the hallway into their room. He could hear Jake yelling after him, but he didn't stop. He was too terrified.

 

He closed the door, leaning back against it and squeezing his eyes shut. He was trembling again, tears running freely down his cheeks. He put his hands over his ears, pacing back and forth in a feeble attempt to calm himself down. It was all coming flooding back. All of it. All the shouting and the screaming every time he messed up or said the wrong thing or did something the wrong way. His father's voice, how it spat out insults and slurs, how it was angrier and louder than anything he'd ever heard before. He could remember the insults, the way he spat out “idiot” and “retard” anytime he did anything wrong. The obvious and suffocating loathing he felt for him, the subtle neglect. It was all suddenly there, fresh and vivid and painful as the day it happened. He could feel the sickly pins and needles in his stomach, the ones he got whenever he knew he'd done something wrong or said something he shouldn't have. He could feel the thick lump of tears in his throat, the jittery panicked feeling of wanting to run from the room.

 

Dirk let out a soft whimper, pressing his hands harder against his ears, trying to block out the chaos in his head. But he couldn't. Not this time. There was no escape. No closet he could run off and hide in, no blankets to burrow under, no Dave to come and defend him, nothing. This time it was just him and his father, stuck forever inside his head.

 

Dirk stopped pacing, his chest tightening as he felt a sob rising in his throat. He sank to the ground against the wall, bringing his knees to his chest and burying his face in them. He pressed his palms harder over his ears and started rocking back and forth as fresh tears began to roll down his cheeks.

 

As he cried, Jake was outside, knocking gently on the door. When he heard Dirk crying louder, his chest lurched painfully and he decided to crack open the door. He saw Dirk folded in on himself, gripping his ears with white knuckled hands and visibly shaking. Jake padded over to him quietly, sitting beside him slowly. After a moment, he gently placed a hand on Dirk's back. Dirk flinched. Jake pulled away a bit, but then put it back and started rubbing his back. After a minute, he leaned over and wrapped his arms around Dirk.

 

“Come here. It's ok,” he murmured almost inaudibly. “You're ok. You're gonna be ok.”

 

Dirk didn't say anything. The two of them stayed like that for a few moments until Dirk shifted, unfolding himself a bit and pressing his face into Jake's shoulder. Jake wrapped his arms tighter around the other man, reaching up to brace the back of his head with one hand. He pressed his face into Dirk's hair, gently shushing him as he sobbed.

 

“M-my dad,” Dirk gasped out.

 

“I know. I know. He's not here now. He can't hurt you anymore.”

 

“He's--”

 

“It's just in your head. It's just memories. He can't hurt you. You're safe now.”

 

Dirk pressed himself against Jake, moving his arms to wrap them around his waist. He was trembling like a leaf and letting out loud, painful sobs. Jake held him a little tighter, brushing back his hair and giving him a soft kiss on the forehead. God, how he wished he could fix this. Go and erase the memories from Dirk's mind, erase all the scars and the damage his father had done to him. Erase the depression that periodically gripped him and threatened to take him away, erase the anxiety that he fought against every day, even in the most mundane things, erase the deeply rooted self-loathing he so obviously struggled with even so many years later. He wanted to get rid of all the pain and suffering he had endured. Of all the things that got to him, of all the things that hurt Jake to his core, this was the worse and the one he was most helpless against. Dirk didn't often get flashbacks, but when he did all Jake could do was hold him and wait for it to pass. And it destroyed him every time.

 

“Shh, shh. You're ok,” Jake murmured sadly, combing his fingers through Dirk's hair. “It's ok. I'm here. You're safe. They're just memories, they can't hurt you.”

 

Slowly, as Jake spoke to him, Dirk’s sobbing slowed down to quiet crying, and then occasional whimpers and sniffles. He started shaking harder and he was breathing heavily to catch his breath. He shifted a bit, pressing his face into Jake's chest and tightening his hold on him.

 

“There we go,” Jake said, relieved that he was starting to calm down. “You're gonna be ok. It's gonna be ok.”

 

“Loud,” Dirk whispered, gripping the back of Jake's shirt in loose fists.

 

“Sorry,” Jake said, dropping his voice to a murmur. He brushed aside a few stray locks of hair from his forehead and kissed him again. “Do you wanna sit on the bed?”

 

Dirk nodded ever so slightly.

 

“Alright. C’mon.”

 

Dirk turned to wrap his arms around Jake's neck as he carefully slid one arm under his knees and picked him up bridal-style. He set Dirk down on the bed and then sat next to him, scooting back to sit against the headboard. Dirk automatically crawled back over to him, hugging him and nuzzling his face against his chest. Jake hugged him back, resting his cheek on top of his head.

 

“Do you want me to talk?” Jake asked softly.

 

Dirk was still for a moment, and then he bobbed his head gently.

 

“Alright.” Jake moved, resting his chin on Dirk's head. “I'm sorry, first of all. I shouldn't have yelled. I didn't mean to. I hardly even realized I had until I heard you drop the plate. You slipped my mind at the time. I was only tired, and everything was really grating on my nerves. You know? I wasn't actually upset with you. Ok?”

 

Dirk nodded again, shifting a bit to hear him better.

 

“You're thinking about your father right now. I remember you explained him to me once. I'm sorry you had to go through all of that. You didn't deserve a single thing that happened to you. I myself didn't quite know my father very well. I didn't really know either of my parents. I was raised by my grandmother. My father was her son, I suppose. She used to describe them to me sometimes, how strong and dashing my father was, and how kind and beautiful my mother was. I had her exact smile, she said, and her eyes, but in a different color. I had my father's laugh, and his cheekbones, and when I was upset it was like looking at a photograph.” Jake smiled a bit, remembering. “I never understand her until she dug up a picture of him when he was my age. We could have been twins. I'll try and find the photo some day; I want you to see him.”

 

“Where?”

 

“Hmm?” Jake looked down at Dirk. He still had his face buried in his chest, but he felt a lot less tense.

 

“Parents?” Dirk mumbled, his voice weak and muffled.

 

“Oh. I'm not sure. Nana never really told me much until I moved out, and even then she left a lot out, I think. From what I can remember, they were in some kind of accident shortly after I was born. It was out on Nana’s island. There was this forest surrounding it, and it was full of dangerous animals and plants and such. She used to say it was only a matter of time before something tragic happened.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“It's alright, though,” Jake said reassuringly. “I was very young when it happened, so I don't remember them much. And I can't quite properly miss them if I never knew them. And besides, my Nana was all the family I needed. We used to split our time between the island and the town where my father lived in England. I spent most of my time in England, because Nana wanted me to get a good education, but we’d go out to the island on holiday often enough that it felt like a second home. We might go back there some time, when we have the money. If it hasn't been overrun by vines by now.”

 

Dirk nodded, pulling his legs to his chest so that he could sit comfortably in Jake's lap.

 

“You might like it there,” Jake said, pulling Dirk a little closer to him. “Its warm most of the time, just like Texas, and the forest’s actually quite nice in certain places. There's a lot to look at. Lot of stuff I wanna show you.”

 

“Nana?” Dirk asked softly.

 

“Yeah. She'll probably be there too, if I can get ahold of her.”

 

“Wh-where?”

 

“Oh, where is she? Well, she's currently residing at a nice assisted living facility in Bristol. She lives with about 10 other people, and there are nurses and doctors that either stay there or visit regularly. She didn't used to live there, it was only about 3 or 4 years ago that she moved in. See, she'd had something of an accident on the island, slipped and fallen into a shallow creek and chipped her hip pretty badly. We both agreed, I more so than her, that it would just be safer if she moved to a live-in care facility. Even at 74, she's twice as strong as someone half her age, so it was a bit of a fight, but eventually I convinced her once I told her I'd call every week. And I have. I told her about you, back when we first got together, and I told her about getting into grad school, and just a couple months ago I told her about us getting engaged.” Jake gave Dirk a gentle squeeze. “She seemed really excited. She said she was happy for us.”

 

“Happy,” Dirk murmured, moving so that his ear was against Jake's chest. He pulled his arms to his chest, letting himself melt into Jake's embrace.

 

“Mm hmm. She'll probably be at the wedding, if we have one. Or at the very least she'll come and visit sometime soon. She's been dying to meet you for years.”

 

Dirk nodded a little, closing his eyes and listening to Jake's heartbeat. Jake gave him a gentle kiss on the forehead, letting his lips linger against his skin.

 

“You feeling a little better now?” Jake murmured.

 

Dirk nodded. He closed his eyes and sighed softly. “I'm sorry.”

 

“You're ok. You don't have to apologize.”

 

“N-no, I--” Dirk sighed again. “I'm sorry.”

 

“It's ok,” Jake said gently.

 

“I'm--” Dirk whispered again, shifting and holding Jake a little tighter. He pressed his face into the other man’s chest. “I'm sorry.”

 

“Hey. Look at me.” Jake gently put his hands on either side of Dirk's face, turning his face towards him. He kissed him gently once on the forehead and again on the lips. “You're fine. Ok?”

 

Dirk stared at him for a moment and then nodded slightly. “Ok.”

 

Jake smiled. “Good.” He gave Dirk another gentle squeeze. “You're gonna be ok,” he murmured. “Do you want anything?”

 

“Tired,” Dirk mumbled.

 

“Do you want to go to bed?”

 

Dirk nodded. His chest felt hollow now, and the faint sound of his father still echoed in his ears. He wanted nothing more than to go sleep and try to forget it all.

 

“Ok. C’mere.” Jake helped him crawl under the covers, making sure he was comfortable. He started to get up to leave, when Dirk whimpered softly and reached for him. His hand froze half stretched out and he pulled it back to his chest as Jake turned around.

 

“S... Stay,” Dirk said softly.

 

Jake obeyed, coming back and sitting on the bedside. He put one hand on Dirk's head, gently rubbing his thumb over his temple. Dirk closed his eyes, letting the motion calm him down. As he drifted off to sleep, he heard Jake murmur something. It sounded like, “I love you.”

 

* * * *

 

When Dirk woke up again, it was almost two am. Jake was snoring softly beside him and the room was dark. Moonlight filtered in through the window, casting grey lines on the ground. Dirk sat up and looked around. His mind was active again, and he could tell there was no way he was going back to sleep before morning.

 

Dirk pushed back the blankets and got up, careful not to disturb Jake. He padded from the room and walked silently through the still house. The broken dish in the kitchen had been cleaned up. Dirk stared at the spot where it had happened, replaying the scene in his mind. It made his chest feel tight and uncomfortable, thinking about how useless and difficult he had been. All over being yelled at once. How pathetic. Maybe his dad _had_ been right.

 

Dirk went to the back door, brushing his fingertips against the cool glass before he pulled it open and stepped outside. It was chilly. Jake would have wanted him to wear a coat. He walked over to the middle of the yard, dew soaking his bare feet and the bottoms of his pants. He stood there, staring ahead at the line of trees just over the fence. They were still bare for the most part, rows and rows of black skeleton branches, twisting and endless and terrifying. The woods behind Dirk's house had been one of the few places he could escape and be by himself as a child, no screaming or abuse or stress or noise. Just him and the soil and the trees.

 

Dirk sat where he stood, letting his hands fall to his sides and grip at the grass. He kneaded the handfuls between his fingers, ripping some of it out, as he stared up at the sky. Few thoughts were running through his head. That maybe his father was right. That maybe he really _was_ the idiot everyone thought him out to be.

 

Dirk slid his hand into the pocket of his hoodie, feeling for his phone. It was there, and with his wet, muddied fingers he unlocked it and dialed a number. He didn't know if he'd be awake now, but it was worth a shot. And even if he wasn't, he didn't care. Luckily, he picked up on the third ring.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Dave.”

 

“Dirk? Is that you?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

On the other line, there was shuffling and creaking. “What are-- What are you doing up? It's almost 2 in Texas, right?”

 

“I slept earlier,” Dirk mumbled, pulling at another fistful of grass. “I'm not tired.”

 

“Dirk, you need to sleep.”

 

“I don't want to. I'm not tired.”

 

“Dirk,” Dave said wearily.

 

“I can't.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“I already told you, I'm not tired. And it won't turn off.” Dirk wiped his hand on the grass. The bottom of his pants would be soaked when he got up.

 

Dave sighed quietly. “Alright. But please, go to bed after this.”

 

“Where's dad?”

 

Dave didn't respond at first. When he finally did, his voice was different. “Why do you ask?”

 

“Something happened today. Flashbacks.”

 

Dave was silent for a moment. “Oh.”

 

“Where is he?” Dirk asked again.

 

“I... I don't know. I haven't seen him since I left for college, I think. You stopped talking to him when you left too, right?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Dave sighed again. “I'd assume he's still back at home, but I don't really know for sure. Why?”

 

Dirk didn't reply. The words were there, right on the tip of his tongue, but it was like there was a brick wall over his mouth.

 

“Dirk.”

 

“He's... I don't want him.”

 

“I know.”

 

“I don't want him to find me.”

 

“He won't,” Dave said gently. “He can't. He doesn't know where you are. You never told him about Jake, right?”

 

“No.”

 

“So he doesn't know where he lives, or where he works, or who he is, right?”

 

“No.”

 

“Ok. Then he won't be able to find you. Even if he looks you up, you probably wouldn't show up anywhere. You haven't done much, so I doubt it'd show up in any databases or anything. You're safe.”

 

Dirk pulled up another fistful of grass, tearing it up roughly.

 

“What was that? What did you just rip?”

 

“Grass.”

 

“Are you outside?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Isn't it cold? It's not spring yet.”

 

“No. I'm wearing a jacket.”

 

“Dirk--”

 

“I'm not cold.”

 

Neither of them spoke for a few moments. Dirk pushed his fingers into the soft earth beneath him, scooping some of it up. He was gonna be filthy by the time he went back inside. He didn't care.

 

“Why does...” Dirk said quietly. “Why did he hate me?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Why did he hate me?”

 

“Oh... He--” Dave stopped, and hesitated. He was quiet for a moment, and then sighed. “You were different. He didn't know what to do with you.”

 

“That's what everyone always says, but it doesn't make any sense. Jake doesn't hate me. Jane and Roxy don't hate me. _You_ don't hate me.”

 

“I know, but Dad wasn't like any of us. I don't think he ever wanted kids. I'm pretty sure we just showed up on his doorstep one day, and forced him to become a father when he wasn't ready. I think you being autistic was too much for him to handle.”

 

“But why? It's not hard to-- I'm not--” Dirk struggled to find the right words. “He could've--”

 

“He just couldn't deal with the extra responsibility. Me, he could handle. He could feed me whatever, dress me in whatever, leave me or take me wherever and it wasn't an issue. But you, he had to try and take in account what foods you couldn't eat or what fabrics made you upset or where was too loud or too cold or too crowded, and I guess that was just too much for him. The only way he could take out is frustration was on you.”

 

Dirk didn't say anything. He had started bouncing his leg as Dave spoke in an unconscious attempt to calm himself down. He roughly wiped away a tear that had begun to slide down his cheek, and he sniffled.

 

“Dirk, are you okay?” Dave asked, his voice suddenly gentle and soft.

 

“Wh-why did he-- I d-didn't--” Dirk said clumsily, tripping over his words. “I didn't do anything to--”

 

“Shh, hey, it's ok. It's ok. I know. You didn't deserve anything he did you. None of it was your fault.”

 

“Wh-why am I--” Dirk pressed his face into his palm. _Why am I like this?_ The words were right there, right on the tip of his tongue. But he couldn't force them out into the night air.

 

Dave sighed softly. He understood. “I don't know, Dirk,” he said gently. “I don't know.”

 

“I-if I-- What i-if-- I wasn't--”

 

“Dirk, don't think like that. Please.”

 

Dirk stared at the ground, his chest tight and uncomfortable.

 

“You can't help the way you are. I know it sucks sometimes, and I know it's hard when no one understands, but you can't start beating yourself up about it again,” Dave said firmly.

 

“He said...” Dirk whispered feebly.

 

“I don't care what Dad said. He was a fucking asshole. And he was wrong.”

 

Dirk wiped away another tear from the bottom of his cheek. The cold of the air was starting to seep into his bones, and he could hardly feel his toes.

 

“Look. Go back inside. Go to back bed. You'll feel better in the morning. Ok?”

 

Dirk was quiet for a moment. “...Ok.”

 

“Good.” There was shuffling on Dave’s end. “I’m gonna go to bed now. We can talk tomorrow if you want, ok?”

 

“Ok. Good night.”

 

“G’night.”

 

When Dave hung up, Dirk stared at the fading screen of his phone for a moment. He looked up, at the shimmering stars dotting the pitch black sky, at the grey clouds drifting in front of the moon. At the forest beyond the fence. If he were to leave now, climb over the fence and walk out into the woods, Jake wouldn’t notice he was gone until morning, and even at his slow pace he might be able to get a couple dozen miles away. He wouldn’t find him for days. Weeks, even.

 

Dirk stood up. He wiped his hands on his pants and turned around. He swiped the back of his hand across his cheek.

 

He went back inside.

  
* * * * *


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also now i gotta put a trigger warning on this bc im a self indulgent sadist fuck so tw: child abuse

Dirk sat on the bed, legs crossed, hands curled in his lap, eyes open and unblinking. He didn't know what time it was. The room was dark, even though the window was open, but even still he didn't know if it was just getting there or already starting to lighten up. He didn't know how long he'd been sitting there either. He couldn't tell if it had been minutes or hours, or maybe even just seconds. Either way, it felt like it had been an eternity. 

 

Jake was beside him, sleeping soundly. Out of the corner of his eye Dirk could see his chest rise and fall slowly and rhythmically as he breathed. He was still alive, Dirk thought absentmindedly. That was good. He was asleep. He had been for hours. 

 

He flicked his eyes down to his hands, curled loosely in his lap. He couldn't move, or at least he didn't feel like he could. Every time he thought about it, shifting and moving under the covers and wrapping his arms around Jake and going to sleep, something in the back of his mind reminded him that he couldn't. He didn't know why. He wanted to. He was desperately exhausted. 

 

He looked back ahead, at the blank wall across from their bed. He half expected there to be a hole, he'd been looking at it so long. His mind was empty. There was just static, it felt like. Static and cotton, like a disconnected tv with the volume turned down. He sighed softly.

 

Jake shifted, turning over and mumbling something before bringing his hand up to his face, almost like he was pushing up his glasses, and then relaxing again. A second later, his face tensed and then suddenly his eyes fluttered open.

 

“Huh?” he asked sleepily, shifting and rubbing at his eyes. “What's--” He started to sit up, when he looked over and noticed him there. “Dirk?”

 

Dirk couldn't muster the energy to say anything back. He was too tired. He blinked slowly at Jake, half hoping he could read his thoughts.

 

“What are you doing up?” Jake asked, sitting up all the way and rubbing his eye again. “Did something happen?”

 

Dirk looked back at the wall. He shook his head slightly. “N... No,” he whispered, his hoarse voice nearly inaudible. 

 

“What's wrong? What woke you up?” Jake asked, now almost fully awake.

 

“I didn't sleep.”

 

“You didn't-- It's...” he leaned over to check the alarm clock. “It's almost 4. You've been awake this whole time?”

 

Dirk nodded, finally able to twitch one of his fingers and then curl his right hand into a fist. It was something.

 

“Is something the matter?” Jake asked gently.

 

“N... I'm...” Dirk closed his eyes, searching for the right words. “I just... can't.”

 

Jake sighed quietly. “Baby, you need sleep. You can't--”

 

“I know. I want to. But I-- I can't.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“He's...” Dirk said softly. “He's here. My dad.”

 

“Oh.” There was a beat of silence. “Did you... have another nightmare?”

 

“Yesterday.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“I could smell him,” Dirk whispered. “His cologne. His beer. His skin.” Dirk pulled his knees to his chest and hugged them. “I dreamed he... he found me. He tracked me down. He was here.”

 

“You know he can't find you,” Jake said gently. “Not anymore. He doesn't know where you are anymore. He has no idea who I am. You're safe here.”

 

“I know,” Dirk said. “I know. I know.” He rested his forehead on his knees. “I know. I know. He-- he doesn't know where I am.”

 

“Is that why you're having trouble sleeping?”

 

Dirk started to nod, but stopped. He thought for a moment, staring at his lap. “I d-- I didn't finish it. I don't know how it ends. I don't know if--” Dirk hugged his knees tighter, panic starting to swirl in his chest. “I don't--”

 

“Hey, listen to me,” Jake said. “It's gonna be ok.”

 

“I don't know if he-- H-he’s... He--” Dirk let out a soft shuddering breath, unable to complete the thought. “He's... He--”

 

“Shh, it's ok. Come here.” Jake held out his arms, beckoning for Dirk to come. Dirk slid over, wrapping his arms around Jake's waist and pressing his head against his bare chest. Jake held him close, one hand gently stroking his hair.

 

“You're ok, baby,” Jake murmured. “It's ok. It was only a dream. None of it was real.”

 

Dirk squeezed his eyes shut, pressing closer to Jake. “It was only a dream,” he repeated softly. 

 

“It was just a dream. You're safe now. He can't touch you. Not if I'm here; I won't let him.”

 

Dirk nodded against his chest, trying to drink in his warmth. He was shaking a bit now, his limbs stiff and on the verge of collapse, it felt like.

 

“I wanna go to sleep,” Dirk whispered after a few moments.

 

“I know.”

 

“I'm so tired.”

 

“I know, baby, I know,” Jake murmured, gently kissing him on the forehead. “You must be exhausted. I'm sorry this is happening. I want you to go to bed too.”

 

“I can't--”

 

“Shh, shh, it's ok. Come here; lie down with me.” Jake helped Dirk slide under the covers and then held him again, letting him curl up against his chest. Jake brushed back his hair and kissed him again on the forehead. “You're gonna be ok. We're gonna get you to sleep, and I won't let anything happen to you, and then everything will be better in the morning. Ok?”

 

Dirk nodded, pressing into Jake more. He closed his eyes, already feeling a little calmer. “I'm safe,” he murmured tiredly.

 

“That's right. As long as I'm here, you're safe. I won't let anything hurt you.”

 

Dirk nodded as best as he could, too tired to say anything. He let himself relax, closing his eyes.

 

****

_ Dirk sat at his desk, his hands tucked under his thighs as he rocked back and forth ever so slightly. He'd been sitting still practically all day and he was getting antsy. He gently tapped his foot on the ground, trying not to make too much sound for fear of the teacher yelling at him again. He followed her every movement as she spoke at the front of the colorful classroom; every wave of her hand or extension of her arm or sway of her body. He wasn't good at many things, but he was good at listening. _

 

_ “For today,” she was saying, “we are going to be making Father's Day cards for you all to give to your dads this Sunday. Do you all know what Father's Day is?” _

 

_ She was met with a chorus of high pitched “no”s from across the kindsrgarten classroom. Dirk just shook his head. _

 

_ “Well, Father's Day is a holiday where we celebrate our daddies and how much they do for us,” the teacher explained. “We buy them presents and give them cards so we can say ‘thank you’ to them for loving us.” _

 

_ Dirk stared at the teacher, his eyebrows now knit together ever so slightly. “Love.” _

 

_ “And,” the teacher added, “we show them that we love them just as much by giving them lots and lots of hugs and kisses all day long. That's how we give back to them for all the love they show us every day.” _

 

_ Fathers. Love. Something about it felt off to Dirk. Fathers were supposed to love. _

 

_ The teacher began to pass out construction paper and markers so that they could get started on their cards. Everyone else pounced on the project excitedly, a low buzz of chatter mixed with the snip of scissors and squeak of markers on paper filling the room. _

 

_ “Draw a picture of you and your dad doing something fun together,” the teacher suggested as she roamed around the room. “Maybe you like to play catch together, or you like to ride your bikes in the park, or maybe he takes you fishing sometimes. Or, maybe it can just be him giving you a big hug or a kiss on the cheek. However it is that he shows you he loves you is good.” _

 

_ Everyone drew smiling crooked stick figures of their fathers doing various things with them: playing sports or watching tv or picking them up and tossing them into the air. Except for Dirk.  _

 

_ He stared at his mostly empty paper. What the teacher had said didn't make any sense. Fathers did all those things to show their love... yet his dad had never once hugged him or taken him on a bike ride or a fishing trip. He wanted to raise his hand and ask her if she was wrong about it, but he knew he couldn't. So instead he wrote “Happy Father's Day!” near the top in crooked block letters and then drew three stick figures, the middle one taller than the rest. He drew two orange circles on the smallest one’s face, indicating it was him. He did the same but in red for Dave, and for his dad he just made them brown. He gave himself and Dave big sunny smiles, but then stopped at his dad. He'd never seen him smile before. Certainly never at him before. He was always either frowning or straight faced or shouting. Never smiling or laughing. _

 

_ After hesitating for a bit, Dirk just drew a straight line under his eyes. It didn't look like any of the other kids’ cards, but it was his, so he decided it was alright. At least he had finished it. He stuck it in his backpack at the end of the day and then went outside to wait for Dave to come and get him so they could walk home together. He kicked his thin legs out, letting his heels bounce off the front of the bench. There was a yellowing bruise just below his knee. _

 

_ He thought back to what his teacher had said. Fathers were supposed to always love their kids, no matter what. What did that mean? She'd said how fathers showed their love, but none of it was anything his dad ever did. And if he  _ had  _ to love Dirk, then she must've been wrong. Right? _

 

_ He pushed it out of his mind as Dave finally approached him. Even though he was only in fourth grade, he acted so cooler and so much more mature that Dirk already looked up to him. Dirk sprang to his feet and followed Dave through the crowd as they started on their way back home. He grabbed onto one of the tassels on Dave’s backpack so he wouldn't get lost. Once they were out on the sidewalk, Dave glanced back at him and Dirk let go. Dave looked at him for a moment, and then held out his hand. Dirk slid his into it, gripping it tightly as they walked home. _

 

_ They got back to their small dingy house and everything was fine, until their dad came home at six. He stank of beer as usual, and when he slammed the front door Dirk flinched. He started grabbing at the hem of his shirt--a nervous habit he'd developed--when he heard him walk into the room. He froze when he came near. _

 

_ “Supper’s ready,” he grumbled roughly. “Come sit at the table.” _

 

_ “I don't--” Dirk started to say, but then he closed his mouth. He didn't like sitting at the table. The chairs were hard and uncomfortable, and the rule was he had to eat all his food before he could get up, no matter how repulsive the texture felt in his mouth. But Dirk knew he couldn't refuse things without risking a beating. _

 

_ His dad stopped. “What was that?” _

 

_ “N-nothing,” Dirk mumbled quickly. “I'm coming.” _

 

_ He followed his father to the dining room, Dave joining them shortly thereafter. When Dirk saw what they were rating, he felt a stab of panic. It was another cheap microwaved TV dinner, soggy and disgusting looking. It smelled almost rancid and most of the food was covered in a thick creamy chemical-scented sauce. He knew just from looking he couldn't eat it without going into sensory overload and possibly even having a meltdown. He just stared at the meal before him as Dave and his dad began to eat. Eventually, his dad noticed. _

 

_ “Eat your supper,” he said flatly. _

 

_ “I can't,” Dirk mumbled. _

 

_ “What?” _

 

_ “I... I can't,” Dirk said, his fingers tugging the bottom of his shirt. _

 

_ “Yes, you can,” his dad said. “Eat your goddamn supper.” _

 

_ “I can't, it's not--” Dirk closed his mouth again, gnawing on his lip. What was he doing? _

 

_ “I'm not playin’ these fuckin’ games with you anymore. That's what you were given, that's what you're gonna eat,” he growled. “Stop fuckin’ complaining.” _

 

_ “B-but I can't, i-it's got too much s--” _

 

_ “What did I fucking say about your goddamn whining?!” his dad suddenly snapped, slamming his hand down on the table. Even Dave flinched a little, almost dropping his fork. Dirk squeezed his eyes shut, one of his hands gripping his shirt in a white knuckled fist.  _

 

_ “D-dad, he's just--” Dave tried softly. _

 

_ “You stay the fuck outta this. I'll teach him not to fuckin’ complain anymore.” His father stood up, stalking over to Dirk's end of the table and roughly grabbing his arm. _

 

_ “I'm sorry,” Dirk said automatically, his voice pinched and trembling. “I'm sorry, I didn't--” _

 

_ “Shut the fuck up,” his dad growled, dragging him upstairs. “This is what you get when you disrespect me in my own house.” _

 

_ “I'm s-sorry, I didn't mean it!” Dirk cried, letting out a sharp whimper as his dad threw him into the empty guest room. He tried to right himself immediately, scrambling over to the corner as fast as he could. _

 

_ “Yes, you did,” his dad muttered, starting to undo his belt. “If you knew any better, you wouldn't've fuckin’ done it in the first place.” He bent the belt in half and then reached for Dirk in the corner. _

 

_ When he was finished, he left Dirk alone in the room. He lay shivering on the ground, tears smeared on his cheeks and waves of pain wracking his bruised and beaten body as he cried. He reached up to wipe away what he thought was a tear, but when he took his hand away there was a tiny amount of blood smeared on his fingertips. He let out a soft sob, curling into an even tighter ball, wanting to disappear. With his ear to the ground he could hear muffled shouting, Dave’s young high pitched voice along with his father's angry gravelly one. His father. These were the things he did. _

 

_ He thought back to earlier, what the teacher had said. How fathers were supposed to love their kids. This wasn't love. Not in the slightest. Loving fathers didn't do things like this to their kids. So what was different? Was it something Dirk was doing? The way he looked? The way he spoke? But even on days when he never looked his father in the eye and gave him only short one word answers, he still got called “retard” and “idiot” regularly. What was it? Was Dirk himself just wrong? Or... did his father just not love him? _

 

_ And if his father didn't love him... who did? _

 

****

Dirk woke up with a sharp gasp, his chest tight and his mind panicked. He found that he was still curled against Jake's chest and he pressed up against the other man, already trembling. As he started to cry, Jake held him closer.

 

“It's ok,” Jake murmured from above him, resting his chin on Dirk’s head. “You're ok. I'm right here. Everything's ok.”

 

“He didn't--” Dirk choked out between sobs.

 

“I know, love, I know. It's ok. You're here now, and you're safe.” Jake closed his eyes, pressing his nose into Dirk's hair. “You're safe.”

 

Dirk let out a soft whimper, pressing against Jake even more. He let the warmth and the scent and the softness of the other man’s skin comfort him, grounding him and bringing him back to reality. He listened to Jake's voice, smooth and low and accented in all the right places. He listened to the way he said certain words and made certain sounds, the familiarity of it helping to calm him down more.

 

Dirk calmed down a bit, relaxing his tight muscles and uncurling his fists, enough so that he could slip his arms around Jake and cling to him. He was still shivering hard, but he had all but stopped crying now, only letting out the occasional shuddering whimper.

 

“There you go,” Jake murmured, lightly rubbing his back. “You're ok. You're gonna be ok.”

 

“He-- H-he hurt me,” Dirk whispered.

 

“I know. But it was just a dream. He can't hurt you now. You're safe.”

 

Dirk didn't say anything. He just pressed his face into Jake's chest, sniffling softly.

 

“You're alright, love. You're gonna be alright.”

 

“You're alright,” Dirk repeated quietly. 

 

“Mm hmm, that's right.” Jake gave him a gentle kiss on the top of his head. “You're alright.”

 

Dirk nodded a bit, nuzzling his head into the crook of Jake's neck. Jake reached up to gently brush back his hair.

 

“You're gonna be ok. See, your body a little more rested now, so you're gonna feel better a little sooner. Ok?”

 

Dirk didn't say anything. After a moment of silence, he mumbled, “I'm tired.”

 

“I know. Do you want some breakfast now? That'll help wake you up a little.”

 

“Ok.”

 

“Alright. C’mon, sit up.” Jake untangled his arms from around Dirk and helped him sit up. The other man looked around groggily, swaying ever so slightly and still visibly trembling. The bags under his eyes suddenly looked so much more prominent and his skin looked much paler and sickly than usual. Jake pressed his mouth into a straight line when he saw him, a stab of empathy and pity going through him. He leaned over and gently gave him a kiss on the cheek. Dirk hummed softly in response, looking up at Jake and giving him a tiny halfhearted smile. When he got out of bed, Dirk staggered a bit, his feet tripping over each other and his legs seeming to tremble a bit under him. Jake caught him in a split second before he could fall very far. Dirk held on to Jake tightly, his body still shivering almost imperceptibly.

 

“Sorry,” Dirk whispered.

 

“It's fine. Are you ok now? Do you wanna sit down for a little while longer?”

 

Dirk shook his head, pulling his lower lip into his mouth to gnaw on it.

 

“Ok. You'll feel better once you get some food in you.”

 

Jake sat Dirk at the table, where he watched him bustle around the kitchen as he prepared tea for the both of them. Dirk looked down at his hands, loosely clasped in front of him. He rubbed at a tiny scar on the back of his left hand, thinking back to the nightmare. That had been the night he realized his father didn't love him, that he had never loved him and probably never would; that he didn't just not love him, he practically despised him. Fathers didn't don't do that to their kids. He knew that. Hell,  _ people _ didn't do that to  _ anyone,  _ no matter how they felt. He knew that. It was inexcusable, what that bastard did to him. It was sickening. It was... horrible. It felt horrible to think about and even more horrible to remember. Seeing just what all his father had done, all scars his abuse had left on him, all the things he couldn't do or couldn't say or couldn't think all because of that one man, was horrible. It made him feel horrible. It  _ was _ horrible.

 

Jake came back to the table with two steaming mugs, setting one down in front of Dirk and the other in front of his own chair. Dirk reached for his mug, wrapping his cold fingers around it, letting the heat leech into his skin. He took a small sip, enjoying the way the hot tea warmed his chest. He reached out for Jake's hand and quietly messed with his fingers as he drank his tea. Jake's fingers were just as familiar to him as the rest of him. He knew every callous and every crease like they were his own. He knew that Jake's right middle finger curved slightly to the left, from when he broke it when he was 16, and that the two tiny scars on his palm were from his cousin’s dog biting him. He knew them, and they comforted him.

 

“Hi,” Dirk murmured quietly to himself. He laid his head down on the table, tired enough to want to go back to bed but still too paranoid to. He sighed softly, moving to look out the back door. He peeked open one of his eyes and noticed the sunlight had already reached the 7th floor board from the wall. He instictively tightened his grip on Jake's hand.

 

“What is it?” Jake asked, having felt Dirk suddenly squeeze his hand.

 

“W-- Work?” Dirk asked timidly.

 

“Wh-- Oh. No, not today. I have the day off.”

 

“Oh,” Dirk mumbled, relief flooding him. He normally felt bad whenever Jake stayed home from work just so he wouldn't be alone, but this time he was thankful to have his company for the day.

 

“Mm hmm.” Jake lightly rubbed his thumb over the back of Dirk’s hand. “You feeling better now?”

 

Dirk just shrugged. “A little bit.”

 

“Don't worry. You're gonna be ok.”

 

Dirk nodded gently, looking over at the wall. After a second, he looked over at Jake and whined softly, reaching out for him with his free hand. Jake stood, walking over to Dirk’s side of the table. Dirk rose as well, sliding his arms around Jake's waist and resting his head on his chest.

 

“Thank you,” he whispered.

 

“You don't have to thank me. I'm just doing what I'm supposed to do. You don't need to thank someone for taking care of you.”

 

Dirk didn't say anything. He only tightened his hold on Jake. Jake brushed back his hair and gave him a kiss on the forehead.

 

“What do you want to do today?” Jake asked. “I'm not doing anything, so if you want me to take you somewhere I can.”

 

“Stay with you,” Dirk mumbled.

 

“I don't have much to do, though. Probably just a few errands; nothing interesting.”

 

“I don't care.”

 

Jake smiled a bit. “Alright,” he murmured, kissing him on the forehead. “I was actually planning on leaving in a little while, and I was wanting to take a shower. Do you think you can get ready while I'm in there?”

 

Dirk nodded, resting his head Jake's chest. “Ok.”

 

“Mmm.” Jake gave Dirk a soft squeeze, giving him a kiss on the head and then another on the lips. He rested his forehead against Dirk’s, their noses brushing a bit as he did. “I love you so much.”

 

“I love you too,” Dirk murmured, closing his eyes, soaking in Jake's warmth.

 

“I'll be out in a couple minutes, ok?”

 

“Ok.” Jake gave him one more kiss and then left. Dirk stayed at the table, brushing his hand over the cool wooden surface. He picked up his mug and took another drink of his tea, holding it with both hands and gently tapping on the sides with his fingernails. He set it down gently and then went back into their bedroom. The door to the bathroom was shut and he could hear the shower running. He pulled off his pajama shirt, shivering a little in the cold air, and went into their closet to get a clean shirt. He pulled it on, and then a pair of jeans and then went out to get his orange hoodie, the same order he always got dressed.

 

Dirk sat down on the bed, bringing his legs up and crossing them. He rubbed at his eye gently, staring at the ground. He sighed softly and then after a few moments let his eyes flutter shut.

 

_ The smell of beer, bitter and stagnant, clinging to breath and hair and clothes and stuck to hands, sharp, stinging hands, hard, pelting fists. The smell of sweat, overwhelming him, choking him just as much as the fingers on his throat. Unrelenting, overpowering, consuming-- _

 

Dirk gasped as he woke up again, his eyes snapping open. He reached up to touch his neck, phantom pain tingling just under his skin. Not now. The choking was what he'd tried to block out the most. Despite that, he could remember it vividly: the way he would kick and flail and try to scream for help, all to no avail; the way the pressure would build in his chest until it felt like it would burst; the way he always thought,  _ this is the time that I die, this is when he holds on for too long and he kills me _ . Dirk ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm himself down.

 

“Are you ok?”

 

Dirk looked up and found that Jake was already out of the shower, a towel slung over his bare shoulders, one hand holding up his jeans. His hair was still damp and sticking up in every direction, and his skin had the slightest tint of red to it. His face was concerned, his eyebrows knit together ever so slightly.

 

“Oh,” Dirk said softly. He looked down at his feet and shook his head a bit, rubbing the back of his neck.

 

“What is it? What's wrong?” Jake asked, sitting beside him.

 

“I f-- I fell asleep for a little bit. I just... had another nightmare.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“It wasn't that bad,” Dirk said quickly. “Th-though. I-it was short.”

 

“Mm. Are you alright now?”

 

“Mm hmm,” he lied.

 

“Ok. That's good.” Jake wrapped an arm around Dirk, letting him rest his head on his shoulder. Dirk noted that his skin was still much warmer than usual from the hot water. He involuntarily pressed against him, the heat comforting him.

 

Jake kissed him on the top of the head. “You're ok,” he murmured. After a minute, he asked, “Do you wanna go get dressed now?”

 

Dirk nodded. “Ok.”

 

“Alright. Do you want any help?”

 

Dirk shook his head, standing and walking into the closet. He bent down, picking up a pair of his orange sneakers and slipping them onto his feet., when he paused. After a moment, he sighed softly, sitting down on the ground. He closed his eyes, a lump growing in his throat. After a few moments, he heard Jake come up and sit beside him, gently sliding his arms around him. Dirk shivered a bit at his touch. Jake gently pressed his face into Dirk's neck, ghosting his lips over his skin and giving him a slow kiss.

 

“Are you sure you're alright?” Jake whispered softly.

 

Dirk tried to shake his head, but he only managed to turn his head to the side a bit. “I don't know.”

 

“Is there anything I can do?”

 

“I don't know. I'm just--” Dirk exhaled quietly. “I'm sorry.”

 

“You're ok.” Jake gave him a kiss on the neck, one of reassurance and support than anything else. “Do you still wanna go out or do you want to stay home?”

 

“I can still come.”

 

“I don't want you to force yourself if you don't feel comfortable,” Jake reminded him. 

 

“I know. I mean it.”

 

Jake sighed softly against his neck, squeezing him gently. “Ok.” He gave Dirk another kiss on the cheek and then pulled away, letting his hands linger on his hips. “You finish getting dressed and we can go, ok?”

 

“Ok.”

 

“I love you.”

 

“I love you, too,” Dirk mumbled back, pulling his hoodie the rest of the way on. He bent to pull on a pair of socks and then a pair of orange sneakers. He hummed softly as he tied them carefully. He stood up and went out into their room again. He picked up a few stim toys as well as his headphones before he went into the living room. Jake was waiting for him on the couch, looking down at his phone. When he noticed Dirk had walked in, he smiled.

 

“Hey,” he said. He patted the seat beside him. “Come sit down.”

 

Dirk sat, leaning over as soon as he did so that he could rest his head on Jake's shoulder.

 

Jake slid his arm around Dirk, moving his head over and gently kissing him on the forehead. Dirk hummed softly, pressing against the other man.

 

“Hi,” he murmured, closing his eyes.

 

“Hey there. You alright?”

 

Dirk nodded silently. He sniffed softly, craning his head to press a kiss to Jake's neck. Jake grinned, holding Dirk closer to him.

 

“Hi, baby,” Jake said, turning to nuzzle his nose against his forehead.

 

Dirk hummed softly, smiling a little and rubbing at his eye. A moment later, his face fell again and he exhaled softly.

 

“I'm tired,” he whispered.

 

“I know,” Jake said, brushing back some of Dirk's hair. “Do you still want to go?”

 

“Mm hmm.”

 

“Alright. Let's get going, ok?”

 

Dirk nodded, watching Jake stand and then reaching up so that he could help him up.

 

When Dirk was up, Jake gave him another quick hug and then pulled away, keeping his hand on his waist for a moment longer. “You're ok,” he murmured.

 

They went to the car and Dirk climbed into the passenger seat, shutting the door gently. He stared down through the window at the asphalt as they drove to the grocery store. The way it rolled past, how blurred it looked, reminded him of the running. Out into the woods, the ones back behind their house, on and on and on for miles, in a desperate attempt to escape from his father's hands even for just a couple hours. He ran-- no, be sprinted-- for minutes on end without stopping, getting horribly lost sometimes but not caring much because the further he was into his sanctuary, the longer his dad had to calm down or pass out and the better his chances of going to bed without another beating. Of course, when he was sober enough to register it, he sent Dave out to get him. That was the worst part, Dave practically forcing him to go back. It made sense to him--he knew Dave got beaten as well if he refused--but nonetheless it still hurt. They had both been trapped by their father's terrible hands.

 

When they got to the grocery store, Dirk got out a few moments behind Jake, so that he could walk over and cling to his hand. Jake looked down and smiled at him. Dirk followed Jake around nearly silently. He had his headphones slipped over his ears (he didn't like the sound of the shopping carts or the buzz of the light) and although the bright fluorescent bulbs stung his eyes, he ignored it and put up with it. He could feel himself slowly losing energy already. He should have stayed at home.

 

At one point, the two of them passed a parent scolding his tiny 7 year old son, grabbing his arm roughly and whisper shouting at him. When Dirk saw the two, an uncomfortable shiver ran down his back and he tightened his grip on Jake's hand ever so slightly. Jake didn't seem to notice, so Dirk pushed it to the back of his mind, trying to focus on his fiancé in front of him.

 

Once they were done there, Dirk helped Jake carry the bags out to the car. He was starting to be on the verge of exhausted, and he felt a sudden pang of guilt.

 

_ God. You can't even follow Jake around and carry a couple grocery bags without getting tired. How pathetic is that? _

 

Dirk got into the car, gnawing nervously on his thumb. Jake noticed as he climbed in as well.

 

“You still ok?” he asked, glancing over at him.

 

Dirk bobbed his head. “Just tired.”

 

“Do you want to go home? We can if you need to.”

 

Dirk shook his head, pressing the pad of his thumb against one of his canines. “I'm ok.”

 

“Ok. You tell me if you start feeling worse, ok?”

 

Dirk kept his head down. “I'm sorry.”

 

“It's ok. You didn't do anything wrong.”

 

When they got to the next store, Dirk asked to stay in the car, already so fatigued he felt he could collapse. Watching Jak walk away from him, he felt a brief pang of panic and loneliness, but he pushed it away. Instead he curl himself up into a ball, as small and tight as he could make himself. He rested his head on the window, staring at a pothole outside the door. His chest felt tight and hollow and he was having a hard time getting in a good breath. He felt like he was on the verge of tears, and he hated it. His entire body ached dully and he just wanted to go home so he could lie down with Jake. But even that he couldn't do without risking another nightmare. 

 

Dirk squeezed his eyes shut, trying to keep from bursting into tears. By the time he heard the car door open again, he was breathing heavily, almost panting, and shivering. He stopped when he felt Jake's hand on his shoulder.

 

“We're going home now,” he said softly. “Ok?”

 

Dirk didn't object this time. He didn't have the energy. All he could manage to do was nod his head a bit. As they drove home, the tight hollow feeling in his chest only got worse and a new sickly feeling of guilt exasperated it even more. He'd tried so hard to act normal, to act like he wasn't some freak who couldn't even handle going to the store, but it hadn't worked. Yet again. When they pulled into the driveway, Dirk didn't want to look at Jake. When he opened the passenger side door, Dirk flinched a bit.

 

“Do you think you can walk inside?” Jake asked, his voice quiet and gentle.

 

Dirk nodded.

 

“Alright. Come here.” Jake took Dirk's hands and helped him stand up out of the car. He clung to Jake's arm as they went inside, keeping his eyes to the ground. 

 

They walked into their bedroom, where Jake sat him down in the bed and then sat next to him. He helpled him untie and slide off his shoes, taking his off as well. He pushed back the covers, slipping under and letting Dirk join him. He slid his arms around Dirk, giving him a kiss on the forehead and then resting his lips against the top of his head and gently playing with his hair.

 

“Hi, baby,” Jake murmured.

 

“I'm sorry,” Dirk whispered.

 

“You're ok. You didn't do anything wrong.”

 

“No, I'm--” Dirk squeezed his eyes shut, tears stinging them and threatening to fall. “I'm sorry I--”

 

“You're ok. You're ok,” Jake said reassuringly.

 

“I-I'm-- I j-just--” Dirk stopped, the lump in his throat proving to be too much. He slid his arms around Jake, tensing up as he started crying.

 

“You're ok,” Jake said again, tightening his hold on Dirk. “It's ok. It's ok.” When he felt Dirk start trembling harder, he sighed softly. “It's alright. You can cry, it's ok.”

 

Dirk clung to Jake as he sobbed, shaking hard. His breath came in sharp, ugly, ragged gasps and he felt like he was dying. He pressed his face into Jake's chest, gripping the back of his shirt with white knuckled fists.

 

“I know, love,” Jake murmured, brushing back Dirk's hair. “I know. It's ok. You're ok.”

 

Dirk tried to speak, tried to say “I'm sorry,” again, but instead he only started crying harder. He let out a soft trembling whimper, in between desperate gasps for air.

 

Jake just held him, tightly, as if he were going to collapse otherwise. It was all he could do, really. He couldn't fix how he was feeling, and him crying was far far better than him suppressing his feelings the way he usually did. He knew that. But nonetheless, the way he shook and the hoarse sound of his tears and the way he clung to him so desperately and fearfully, cut him right to the core.

 

“You're ok, love,” he whispered, closing his eyes and bracing his hand against the back of Dirk's head. “Everything's ok, I'm right here.”

 

It took a while, almost fifteen minutes, but eventually Dirk's sobbing turned into quieter crying. It didn't stop completely, but he was finally able to draw in a few good breaths. 


	7. Chapter 6 part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ ??????? idk what this is  
> tw: child abuse

_Running. Scrambling. Desperately. Hopelessly. He needed to get out. He needed to escape. Even if it was just for a little while, he needed to be free._

_Dirk threw himself down the stairs as fast as he could go, breathing heavily and raggedly. His father was right behind him, he could hear his thunderous footsteps, but he had a few seconds on him. When he'd finally managed to wriggle from his grasp, he'd slipped out between his legs and was already halfway out the door before he noticed enough to move. One upside of the fact that he was always drunk: slower reactions._

_Dirk hardly caught himself before he barreled into the wall, but he didn't care. He ran clumsily towards the back door, left slightly ajar by his father just a few hours earlier. He reached the door just as his father was rounding the bannister of the staircase. He was shouting, the sound too loud and slurred for Dirk to understand what he was saying, as if he'd have listened anyways._

_Dirk fumbled with the handle, struggling to grip it in his trembling hands, but after a few tries he managed to toss the sliding door open and shove himself through the tiny crack he'd made, barely wide enough for his body. He nearly tripped and fell, but he caught his balance at the last minute. Without stopping, he started sprinting for the line of trees behind their house, his bare feet slapping the cold hard dirt, his breath coming heavy and ragged in his throat. He could hear his father yelling at him, but he ignored it. He was free. He'd gotten out._

_Dirk didn't stop running for almost ten minutes. He didn't know where exactly he was going, but he knew he couldn't slow down. His dad never actually chased him into the woods, but that didn't stop his paranoid thoughts from convincing him he was still hot on his tail. His feet were bare and probably filthy by now and they hurt like hell as he ran over the forest floor of thick tree roots and sharp sticks. He was almost always barefoot when he ran like this; grabbing shoes was never of the utmost importance. But he never cared. If anything, he'd just gotten used to it._

_Eventually, Dirk slowed down, but only after he tripped on a log and nearly fell on his face. He stopped, leaning against a tree and grabbing a stitch in his side as he gasped for air. His knees were trembling so hard he could barely stand. He sank to the ground at the foot of the tree, drawing his legs to his chest. He tried to catch his breath, but it suddenly felt like there wasn't enough air in the world. He didn't know whether or not it was because he was winded or he was starting to have a panic attack, but either way he started clawing at his chest, trying to get even a tiny gulp of oxygen. Eventually, slowly, he caught his breath and managed to calm himself down enough that he could think straight again. He ran a hand through his messy matted hair just as his chest got tight and he started to cry. He hated this. He hated the back and forth between running away and being dragged back right. It had been going on for a few years now, since he was 7 or 8. His father would start beating him, he would somehow manage to escape, he would dash off into the woods and could stay there for hours maybe, but Dave always came out and brought him back within an hour. That bastard didn't even care enough to retrieve Dirk himself. Thankfully though, he was almost always asleep or passed out by the time they got back._

_Dirk looked down at his arms, covered in cuts and bruises. He could just barely make out the shape of his father's fingers on his right wrist. He would have to wear long sleeves again tomorrow. His father always made sure no one knew, threatening him with more beatings if he didn't cover up the marks. None of the other kids at school even noticed, but more than once a teacher had pulled him aside and asked about it, and each time he'd lied and said everything was fine. He knew the teachers knew it was utter B.S., but it was much easier than risking whatever his father would've done if the school had gotten involved. And besides, according to him, he didn't deserve their help, since it was all his fault anyways._

_Dirk sniffled softly, gently wiping away tears from his right cheek, where he was pretty sure he had a black eye. A moment later, he heard rustling and he tensed up, the sickly feeling of panic rising in his stomach. He leg out a soft whimper and tried to hide behind the tree a little better, pulling his limbs closer to him, as Dave came from behind it. Dirk relaxed a bit once he recognized it was his brother._

_Dave sat down across from him silently, his usual shades covering his eyes. He looked Dirk up and down and then exhaled softly. They didn't talk for a while. Dirk shifted, wiping at his eye again._

_"He--" Dirk whispered. "He said he was gonna kill me."_

_"He didn't mean it."_

_Dirk didn't say anything back. He curled his toes under his feet, suddenly aware of how cold it was. "D-did he make you come?"_

_"Yeah. I didn't want to, though."_

_"Did he hit you?"_

_Dave opened his mouth, but then slowly shut it. Without a word, he slid off his glasses, showing off the bright red hand mark on his cheek. Dirk whimpered when he saw it._

_"It's ok, though," Dave said quickly. "It's not that bad."_

_"I'm sorry," Dirk whispered._

_"It's not your fault."_

_"Yeah, it is. I'm--" Dirk covered his face with his hands, tears welling up in his eyes. "I'm such a--"_

_"No, you're not. Don't listen to Dad, ok? He's just some stupid asshole. Nothing he says matters."_

_Dirk moved his hand a bit, looking between his fingers at his muddy feet. He sniffled quietly, wiping his cheeks again and wincing a bit as he touched a bruise."I'm sorry."_

_Dave sighed softly, shifting a bit. "...It's ok."_

_Dave sat there with him for a while, until the sun had sunk well below the horizon and the last bits of orange light were on the tops of the trees. The insects that came out at night were buzzing and clicking, putting Dirk a bit on edge. Dave looked down at his watch, frowning when he did._

_"We should," Dave said, "um. Start heading back, probably."_

_"No," Dirk said, his head snapping up. "Please."_

_"It's getting late. We can't stay out here, especially not when it gets dark."_

_"No, please. I-- C-can we stay here a litte longer?" Dirk asked timidly._

_"Dirk--"_

_"Please, j-just a couple more minutes. I'm not ready yet." Dirk looked up at Dave, once again on the verge of tears. "Please."_

_Dave stared at Dirk. His eyes were wide and scared and pleading, red and puffy from all the crying he'd done. He had scrapes and bruises all over his face and a bad black eye on his left side. His cheeks were smeared with dirt and sweat and tears and his hair was a mess. He looked so fragile and helpless that it made Dave's chest ache._

_Dave closed his eyes and sighed softly. "I... I know. But it'll only be worse if we come home late. He's... waiting for us."_

_"He is?"_

_"Yeah. When I left he was."_

_Dirk looked down, reaching down and digging his fingers into the dirt. After a moment, he nodded and whispered, "Ok."_

_"Ok. Come on." Dave stood and reached down to help Dirk up as well. He almost stumbled, his legs stiff from sitting for so long, but he caught himself. The two of them began the long trudge back home, Dave with his arms wrapped tightly across his chest and his head down, Dirk trailed slightly behind him. Anxiety was already burning in Dirk's chest, making him shiver slightly. It didn't help that the air was starting to get chilly and all he had was a short sleeved shirt._

_"I'm cold," Dirk mumbled, wrapping his arms around himself and rubbing his arms a bit._

_Dave only glanced back at him without a word. After a few moments he muttered, "Sorry." Dirk didn't speak the rest of the way back._

_By the time they got to the edge of the woods, it was nearly nighttime, with a handful of early stars starting to peek out of the dark blue sky. Their house was visible through the last line of trees. Dirk stopped, taking a few steps back and tightening his arms around himself. He let out a soft involuntary whimper, his body beginning to tremble harder._

_"Dirk," Dave said once he noticed his brother no longer following him. "C'mon."_

_"Please," Dirk whimpered pleadingly. "Don't make me go back."_

_"Dirk--"_

_"Please!" Dirk begged. "I-I can't, he's... H-he's gonna..." Dirk trailed off as a single tear spilled over and ran down his cheek._

_Dave looked at him, a pained expression on his face. "It's gonna be worse the longer we're out here."_

_"J-just a couple more minutes."_

_"We can't."_

_"Please--"_

_"Come on," Dave muttered, grabbing Dirk's wrist and pulling him along, suddenly annoyed with his pleading. Didn't he know he wanted to help? Didn't he know how powerless he was? Didn't he realize he was only trying to spare him more suffering? Didn't he get it? Didn't he see how much it hurt him too?_

_Dirk pulled out of Dave's grasp, holding his hand protectively to his chest. After a moment, he hung his head down and silently followed Dave back into the house. Just as he'd expected, his father was there waiting for him, seething at the kitchen table, a fresh beer in hand and two more empty cans before him. When the two of them entered, he stood, swaying a bit. He crossed the room in what looked like two strides and grabbed Dirk roughly by the arm. Dirk whimpered when he was grabbed, his father having touched a fresh bruise, and tried feebly to fight back as he was dragged upstairs again._

_"Please," Dirk whispered._

_"Shut up," his father snapped. "I thought I told you running away will not be tolerated."_

_Downstairs, Dave stood silently by the back door, too guilt ridden and shocked to move. He heard the door slam, which caused him to flinch, and then a few seconds later the sound of skin being hit and Dirk's muffled cries of pain. Dave squeezed his eyes shut, trying his hardest to ignore out the sounds. He dug his fingernails into his palms to the point of pain, trying to keep from bursting into tears himself._


	8. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> love me some of that sad shit ya feel  
> as of 5/18/16 this still slightly more finished

When Dirk woke up, he felt off. Something was wrong in his chest, like something was missing right from the middle, and his head felt foggy, almost the way it did when he was sick. He tried to roll over, but even that took what felt like an enormous amount of energy. But he could tell there wasn't anything actually wrong with him. It was all in his head this time. He had these moods, these... episodes from time to time, where he'd wake up numb and hollow and sad and could hardly muster up the energy to breathe, much less get out of bed. They came randomly, and they were never predictable; some days he'd recover within a few hours, while others he'd be in a near-constant state of tears all day if not all night as well.

Jake was still asleep beside him. He was warm--Dirk was still pressed up against him--and his chest rose and fell slowly as he slept. The clock told Dirk it was 6:54. Even though he'd just woken up, he already felt tired.

He didn't like these episodes. They made him feel that much more helpless and weak, and Jake usually insisted on staying home from work to take care of him, which was nice but also only piled guilt on top of everything else he felt.

Beside him, Jake stirred. His hand went up to his face, rubbing at his cheek as his eyes fluttered open. He stretched a bit and yawned before exhaling softly as he rubbed his eyes. He rolled over so that he was facing Dirk and gave him a kiss on the forehead.

"Hi, love," he murmured, his voice still rough and gravelly with sleep.

"Hi," Dirk whispered back. His voice was soft and barely audible.

"Are you alright?"

Dirk was quiet for a moment, and then shook his head gently. "I don't know."

"What's wrong?"

"I don't know."

Jake sat up a little bit, reaching over to slide on his glasses. "Does something hurt? Do you feel sick?"

"Kind of. My chest hurts a little."

"Ok. Is that all?"

"N..." Dirk shifted. "No."

"What else is wrong?" Jake asked. When Dirk didn't say anything, he said gently, "It's ok. You can tell me."

"I don't feel good."

"In what way?"

"I feel... sad. Kind of. I don't know." Dirk covered his face with his hand. "I-- Nothing happened. I don't know why I'm--"

"Hey. Don't worry. It's ok, that happens sometimes."

"I'm sorry," Dirk said quietly, his voice muffled by his hands.

"It's ok. Come here." Jake held open his arms, sitting all the way up against the headboard. Dirk crawled into them, resting his head on Jake's bare chest. Jake gave him a kiss on the top of his head and pet back his hair. "You're gonna be ok. Don't worry."

Dirk didn't say anything. He just closed his eyes, breathing in Jake's scent and letting the motion of him petting him soothe him.

Eventually, Jake pulled away, giving him one last kiss before he stood up to go start getting ready. Dirk stayed in bed, nuzzling back under the covers while Jake was in the shower. He closed his eyes again, half wanting to fall back asleep so he could maybe feel a little more rested. But he couldn't, no matter how hard he tried. He heard the sound of the shower and then footsteps once it shut off and shortly afterwards the hiss of the tea kettle and the clink of dishes out in the kitchen. Dirk stayed in bed.

A few minutes later, the sound of footsteps came back into the room. He felt Jake sit on the edge of the bed.

"If you get up, you might feel a little better," he said softly.

"It hurts to move."

"I know. But staying and wallowing in one spot won't help. It's better for you to move around, even if it's just a little bit."

Dirk anxiously curled his hands into fists, holding them to his chest. "I'm sorry."

"It's ok. Do you wanna try and come to the kitchen?"

Dirk nodded. Slowly, he pulled himself up into a sitting position and pushed back the covers. He pulled his knees to his chest, trying to build up the energy to stand. After a moment, he brought his hands to his face, pressing his palms to his eyes and gripping his hair tightly. He felt Jake scoot over and loosely wrap his arms around him.

"I'm sorry," Dirk whispered again.

"It's ok. Take your time."

After another minute of waiting, Dirk swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood. Holding tightly onto Jake's arm, he trudged into the kitchen, where there were two mugs of tea already waiting on the table. Jake sat Dirk down before one of them and he walked around to sit across from him. Dirk looked down at the steaming mug, almost as if it were a foreign thing to him. Carefully, he placed his hand on one side, ignoring the hot ceramic, and slid his fingers through the handle and brought the mug to his lips. He let it rest there for a moment before he took a small sip, the warm drink heating him up all the way down to his stomach. It was good. Jake had added cinnamon and honey and just a splash of milk, the way he liked it, and he kind of liked the way holding the mug warmed his cold palms. But even still, the heaviness in his chest persisted and he couldn't enjoy it the way he wanted to, or rather the way he should have, considering how good things were for him then. He had no reason to be so upset and empty over nothing. Especially not since he knew what it was like to actually have something to dread.

Dirk managed a few more sips before he stopped and put his mug back down. He put it down a little too hard and a few drops of tea sloshed over the side and onto his hand. It stung dully. He ignored it. He put his head down, covering the back of his neck with his hands. He squeezed his eyes shut, the sting of tears growing stronger by the second.

Silence hung in the air for several seconds. Then, "Love." Jake's voice was quiet, almost inaudible. It didn't sound the way it did when he was trying to be quiet. He sounded genuine, almost as though he'd been speaking to himself.

Tears dripped from the tip of Dirk's nose and pooled on the table below him. It didn't even feel like he was crying. The tightness in his chest didn't feel any better, like it usually would. It sort of just felt like he was leaking. He took in a soft, shuddering breath.

Jake's chair across from him creaked as he shifted. He felt something lightly touch his arm.

"Can you tell me what's wrong?" Jake murmured. "I can't help if I don't know what's the matter."

"I'm sorry," Dirk whispered hoarsely.

"It's ok."

"I shouldn't be... There's nothing wrong with me. I shouldn't be upset. I shouldn't be--" Dirk closed his eyes, tensing up as another wave of tears went through him. "There isn't anything I should be sad about. Not anymore."

"It happens. Sometimes people just get sad, even when there isn't anything wrong. There's nothing wrong with that."

"But I shouldn't--" Dirk couldn't finish his sentence. Another wave of tears hit him, but this time he couldn't hold it back as he started crying harder.

Jake stood, walking around to Dirk's side of the table. He gently pulled him to his feet and hugged him, holding his head to his chest. He gently swayed them back and forth as Dirk cried, his slight frame shaking a bit as he did. It was times like this that Jake remembered just how fragile Dirk really was. He liked to pretend that he was alright, more for Jake's sake rather than his own, and he was actually much better at it than anyone would think, but eventually he'd start cracking at the seams and he would need someone there to hold him together and sew him back up. Jake loved him too much to mind, no matter how frequently it happened, but it was still hard to watch each time and he still wished Dirk had enough confidence and trust in the both of them to tell him before it got this far.

"You're alright," Jake said gently. "You're alright. You can cry. It's alright."

Dirk sniffled softly, pressing his face into Jake's shoulder. He gripped the back of his shirt loosely, trying to catch his breath. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the sunlight creeping up the walls.

"Do you have to leave yet?" he mumbled softly, a tiny bit of fear in his voice.

"No, not yet. Not for a little while."

"Ok."

Dirk close his eyes, resting his head on Jake's chest and listening to his heartbeat. After a few minutes, he had stopped crying. Jake was still rocking him gently and lazily twirling his hair around his finger. Dirk's chest still felt hollow and tight. A little while later, Jake stopped. He kissed Dirk on the forehead, brushing back his hair as he did.

"I can stay if you want," he murmured.

Dirk shook his head. "I'm ok."

"Are you sure?"

"Mm hmm."

Jake was quiet for a moment, resting his lips against Dirk's forehead. “Alright.” He slipped away so that he could go get his things. Dirk picked anxiously at his cuticles. Even with Jake there, he still felt majorly on edge. But he didn't want to burden him down even more by making him miss work. He would be fine on his own. He had to be. He _was_ 27 after all. He should've been able to take care of his own self.

_Just like Dad always said._

When Jake reemerged from the bedroom, he went over and gave Dirk one last hug.

“You're sure you'll be fine?” he asked, a tiny bit of worry evident in his voice.

“Yeah.”

Jake rested his forehead against Dirk's. He sighed softly. “Ok.” He pressed his lips against the top of Dirk’s head. “I'll be back around 3.”

“Ok.”

“Can I have a kiss?” Dirk tilted his head up so that Jake could give him a quick peck on the lips. “Bye. I love you”

“I love you too.”

Dirk watched Jake go, picking at a dead piece of skin on his cuticle. He looked down and sighed softly. Dirk sat back down at the table and finished off the rest of his tea slowly, taking occasionally but regular sips. It was between lukewarm and cold now; not hot enough to warm him up like earlier but not cold enough to taste slimy and stale. It was alright.

Dirk looked down at the table. The small pool of tears he'd left was starting to dry up around the edges. He could already feel himself starting to miss Jake. He didn't like being alone, especially not during times like this. He shook his head a little, trying to push it out of his mind. Dwelling on it wasn't gonna make it any better.

Dirk got up slowly, moving his body carefully and gingerly, and went to pull Lil Hal out of the closet. He hadn't worked on him in a little while, and he needed something to distract himself for a while. Dirk did manage to focus on the project fairly well, working on Hal’s code for a good hour or so without stopping. His phone buzzed beside him at one point, but he ignored it. He was making good progress and he didn't want to stop now. After another half an hour, he noticed a dull ache and realized he still hadn't eaten. He didn't stop. Another hour went by. Was it an hour? He couldn't tell. Time never moved right for him, and he kept forgetting to glance at the clock on the computer screen. He was working almost frantically now, the sound of the keys clacking loud and urgent, but luckily comforting enough that he didnt mind. Not that he would have slowed down if he did. He couldn't stop working. He didn't want to. He couldn't. If he stopped now, he wouldn't be able to go back. If he stopped now, he would get caught up in everything else and he would start sinking again. If he stopped--

Dirk froze, his fingers still on the keys of his laptop. He was staring at the screen, but the code looked fuzzy and blurred. He sat back, his hands curling into tight fists. He pressed them against his forehead, still staring unseeingly at the white screen. He squeezed his eyes shut, suddenly fighting back tears. He stood up gingerly and walked to the back door, sliding it open and then walking out into the yard. He sat down cross legged, hunched over with his hands pressed flat over his eyes. He took several slow careful breaths until the stinging in his eyes subsided.

What was wrong with him? Other people didn't do this. Other people didn't wake up empty and numb, so much so that they started crying. Other people didn't need to take five minutes just to build up enough energy to walk 20 feet. Other people didn't have to hyper fixate on something for hours just their brain to do _something_ other than wallow in the self-pity they didn't even deserve to have. Other people weren't so fragile and helpless and pathetic. So what was wrong with him? Why was he like this?

 There were words for it. Terms, diagnoses, formal conditions. He knew that. He knew he'd been this way for as long as he could care to remember. Of course he knew Jake had seen it happen, and pretty early on from what his memory told him, so that was at least 3 years. And he had distinct memories of spending days at a time in his room at Jane and Roxy's apartment, doing nothing but staring at the wall and wasting away. That was another 2 and a half years.

But then it got into his teens, when he was still at home. Still with his father. And all he could remember feeling back then was fear. Great, sickening, all consuming fear. Even if he had wanted to be depressed there, he wouldn't've had the chance. He was too busy being on about when the next beating was coming or whether or not this was the time he was gonna be killed. Even if he had ever felt lethargic and hollow, the fear of his father would've overpowered it all and it wouldn't have mattered. He could remember the same black, sticky tight feeling in his chest, at the very least. Long nights spent curled up in the corner of his bed where the two walls met, sitting and staring unblinkingly and anxiously waiting for the door to be thrown open. He remembered feeling empty beneath all the terror. Empty... just like this. 

His father. It always came back to him. Everything he felt, everything that was wrong, you could always trace back to him and what he'd done. There was a term Jake had used once, in passing. PTSD. Dirk knew what it was. He knew what it entailed. Flashbacks, anxiety, paranoia. Depression. Among other things. He'd already been experiencing all of them for years now. It wasn't much of a surprise when Jake told him that's what it probably was. But at the same time, he kept... denying it, almost. Like it wasn't right. How could he have PTSD when all he'd done was live with his father? Only people who had been through _real_ trauma had PTSD; veterans or survivors of natural disasters or random assault. Not him.

Dirk stood up, only feeling somewhat in control of his body. He walked back inside and closed the back door. He walked into the dining room but stopped short of the living room. He turned around and walked back towards the door.

Everything was because of him. _He'd_ abused him. _He'd_ given him the trust issues he'd been struggling with for the past 8 years. _He'd_ destroyed any semblance of self-worth and confidence he'd ever had. _He'd_ given him his PTSD, and his depression, and his anxiety, and every other thing that was messed up about him; that made him wrong. _He'd_ broken him. _He_ was why he was like this now.

Dirk kept pacing. He was walking almost robotically, like someone else had taken control and was making him walk. He pressed his fists to his forehead again, breathing harder than normal. God, he felt like he was going to cry again.

“Stop it,” he muttered softly. “Stop it.”

His father. Even just thinking about him put him on edge. Images of him flashed before his eyes: his pasty grey skin, his matted, perpetually damp dirty blond hair, his dead, dull amber eyes, the thick scar on his jawline, the rough callouses on his hands. The look of bitter hatred and loathing that always overtook his face whenever he looked at Dirk. His fists, sharp and bony and powerful. His hands, wrapped around his wrist. His fingers, gripping that black belt. His feet, the heavy boots he always wore when he kicked him.

 "Stop,” Dirk said, more urgently. He dug his fingernails into his palms as hard as he could, desperate for something to distract him. “Stop it.”

The room. The guest room where it always happened. The only person who'd ever spent the night there was Dirk, too paralyzed by pain to crawl to his room. The cold, stiff carpet. The dirty beige walls. The window that looked out on nothing, that he always wished he could escape through. The room felt like pain. Just thinking about it made his skin hurt.

“Stop it,” Dirk said through gritted teeth, squeezing his eyes shut. He hit his fist against his temple, trying to erase the bad memories. Jake didn't like it when he hit himself, but the pain helped distract him so that he didn't have a complete meltdown. “Stop it, stop it, stop it.”

The pain. He could feel it. The red burning welts, the aching bruises and contusions, the concussions that made the room spin. It all came rushing back at once, overwhelming him and threatening to push him over the edge.

“Stop it!” Dirk hit his forehead harder, punctuating each word with a hit. “Stop it, stop it, stop it!”

Suddenly, he stopped, his forehead aching dully. Anger. Blinding, all consuming anger. All of a sudden, he was filled to the brim with anger and rage. He felt furious. More furious than he'd ever been in his life. It was all his father's fault. He had made him this way. He had torn him apart and broken him before there even was anything for him to break. He had ruined any chance of a normal life he would have ever had. He ruined him by abusing him and neglecting him and pushing his worth down so far that he could hardly even breathe without worrying about upsetting someone. He'd done all of this, and for 19 years he put up with it, living in constant fear, too busy being terrified of him even to hate him. 19 years he'd been subconsciously pushing down any of the hatred and rage he should have felt, and now it felt like all of it had come rushing back up all at once. For the first time, Dirk actually hated his father.

“He did this to me,” Dirk whispered, his voice hardly audible even to him. “He did this.” His hands started shaking as the words sunk in further. “He did this. He made me like this.” He pressed his fists to his forehead again, seething with anger. “He broke me. He broke me. He broke me!” Dirk yelled as he started hitting his forehead again, harder and faster than he had been before. It hurts. He ignored it. He wanted to cause damage. “He did this! This is _his_ fault! This! Is his! Fault! He's why I'm stupid! It's all because of him! It's all his fault! It's all his--”

All of a sudden, Dirk's hands were down, away from his head. He tried to yank them back but they stayed put no matter how hard he tried. What was holding him? He didn't like it. The touch felt like needles in his skin. He looked up, his mind moving so frantically and erratically that it took him a moment to land his darting eyes on the person before him. Jake was staring back at him, his face tight and troubled, holding Dirk's wrists close to his chest.

“Let go of me,” Dirk gasped, his voice trembling ever so slightly. When Jake said nothing, he shouted, “Let go of me!”

“I'm not going to let you hurt yourself,” Jake said calmly.

“Let go of me.” Dirk tried to pull his hands away, to no avail. He was starting to get more upset, his breath coming shallow and raggedly. “Stop.”

“No.”

“Stop touching me.” Dirk squeezed his eyes shut. “It hurts. Stop it. Stop! Let go, he's gonna--” Dirk flinched as another flashback went through his mind. He tried instinctively to raise his hands to his forehead, but Jake held him tightly in place and it only flustered him more.

“Stop! Let go of me!” Dirk shouted, pulling frantically against Jake's grip, his mind wild, afraid, and starting to panic. He let out a loud desperate whine, twisting his arms this way and that. “Stop it! Stop!”

“I'm not letting you hurt yourself,” Jake said again, tightening his grip on Dirk’s wrists as he tried to escape. “It won't help anyone.”

“Stop! Let go of me!” Dirk was screaming now, his voice louder and hoarser than normal. He wanted to calm down, wanted to stop yelling and let Jake hold him, but he couldn't. It felt like someone else was controlling him and pumping ever increasing anger into him, and making him lash out blindly. He tried to push Jake away from him, panting and hyperventilating and so distraught he couldn't see straight. “He's gonna hurt me, I need to make him go away!”

“Hitting yourself isn't going to make him go away,” Jake said. “They're memories. They can't go away.”

“No! It's his fault! It's his fault, he did this to me!” When Dirk tried and failed to pull his hands away, he let out a loud shout. “Let go of me!”

“Calm down.”

“D-don't-- C-c-calm-- D-d-don't t-tell m--” Dirk's speech suddenly faltered, his mouth unable to form coherent words. “D-don-n’t t-t-t-- D-d--” He squeezed his eyes shut, digging his fingernails into his palms again, trying to force himself to speak. “H-h-he d-did...” After several increasingly pathetic tries, he fell silent, shaking like a leaf and panting hard. He shook his head stiffly, everything in his mind still going off all at once. “J...” He was gasping for air, his fists clenched so hard his arms were shaking.

This time, it didn't feel like he was leaking. It felt like something in his chest had cracked open and everything had come rushing out too fast for him to stop it. When he did start sobbing, it felt like someone had kicked him in the gut. He hung his head as his shoulders trembled and tears rolled down his cheeks and dripped from the tip of his nose.

 _Again,_ he thought. _How many more times?_

He felt Jake let go of his wrists so that he could hug him to his chest. He was gentle, sliding one hand up to brace the back of his head while the other stayed on his back. He didn't say anything at first. He just pressed his cheek against the side of Dirk's head. He lightly brushed his lips over his skin. He sighed quietly in relief.

Dirk wanted to cling to him, wanted to wrap his arms around him, but his muscles weren't cooperating with him and he couldn't unclench his fists or move his arms away from his chest. He let out a tight sob, wanting to speak but unable to. Every time he tried, he just started crying harder. He was breathing so hard and shallowly that he choked on his tears more than once. Jake shushed him when he did, rubbing his back and brushing back his hair.

“You're ok,” he said softly. “You're ok. Just breathe. In and out, just like me.”

Dirk whimpered softly. He tried to calm himself down but was hit with another wave of intense sobs. After it had passed, he sniffed and tried to follow Jake's breathing. He couldn't get himself to stop panting at first and he groaned quietly in frustration, moving his fists closer to his head. In an instant, Jake had placed his hands over them, holding them down ever so slightly.

“It's ok. Keep trying. You're gonna get it eventually. Just breathe when I do.”

Dirk let out a quiet, strangled noise and then pressed his head against Jake's chest. He did what he asked, inhaling when he felt his chest rise and exhaling when it went back down. Slowly, eventually, the two were breathing in sync. Dirk was still crying quietly, but he was eventually able to uncurl his fists and relax his muscles. He gripped the front of Jake's shirt, letting out soft whimpers and gasps. Jake gently rubbed his back, his face pressed into his hair.

"We're ok," he murmured. "We're ok."

Dirk hung his head down, putting his hands over his face. He sniffled, brushing away the tear marks on his cheek. Gently, he pulled himself away from Jake, stepping out of his arms. He kept his eyes down as he did, unable to bring himself to look at Jake. Silently, he turned and he walked back to their room, closing the door behind him. He gently sat down on the bed, pulling his knees to his chest and pressing his face into them. His throat still burned dully from all the screaming he'd done.

He felt like an idiot now. He wasn't supposed to get upset like that. He wasn't allowed to. Tantrums, breakdowns, things like that, were what made everyone leave. The near constant state of instability he was in was too much for anyone to put up with. It had been too much for his dad, who beat him every time he had a meltdown, too much for Dave, who left for college without looking back when Dirk was 14 and left him to his own devices for five more years, too much for Roxy or Jane, who very clearly loved and cared about him but were also very obviously stressed out by Dirk's constant needs. That was how things went: he'd have a breakdown, people would leave and then later come back, and he would spent the rest of his time desperately brushing off and dismissing his needs for grievous fear that it would happen all over again. It was just how things were. It was what he had become used to.

Dirk heard the door creak. A few still seconds of silence hung in the air, and then footsteps. The bed sank a bit as someone sat beside him. Shyly, Dirk peeked his head up to see who it was. When he did, Jake saw that his eye was still red and puffy and there were fresh tears on his cheeks. Dirk put his head back down, pulling into a tighter ball. Neither of them spoke for another long minute. Eventually, Jake shifted.

"I'm not mad," he said quietly. "I was just scared. Seeing you like that, it-- It was just... alarming."

Dirk didn't say anything in response. He sniffled quietly. After a few minutes, he lifted his head again. He kept his eyes to the ground, tears flowing silently down his cheeks.

"Are... y-you gonna l-leave me?" he asked quietly, his words coming out messy and uneven.

"No. Of course not."

"...Why?"

"Because I love you."

"Alw-ways leave," Dirk whispered. "Th-they always leave."

"Who?"

"Everyone."

"Oh." Jake shifted a little closer to Dirk. "Is it alright if I touch you?" Dirk nodded. "Can I hug you?"

Dirk was still for a moment, and then nodded. Jake opened his arms and Dirk crawled into them, wrapping his arms around his body and clinging to him. Jake hugged him back, brushing back his hair and giving him a kiss on the forehead.

"I'm never going to leave you," Jake murmured. "I promise."


	9. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remember that shitty habit i have of posting chapters unfinished??  
> well.  
> i mean at least its happy?? for once?? just take it u vultures stop judging me im gonna finish it soon

Dirk opened his eyes. He was pressed against Jake's chest, his arms wrapped loosely around his waist. He shifted, moving his head to the side so that he could breathe. He brushed his lips against Jake's skin, giving him a few small kisses.

Jake slowly woke up, groaning softly as he shifted. When he felt Dirk in his arms, he hugged him a little tighter and pressed his lips against his scalp.

"Hi, love," he murmured sleepily.

"Hi."

A tired smile spread across Jake's lips and he reached his hand up to brush back some of Dirk's bangs. "Did you sleep well?"

"Sleep well," Dirk echoed quietly.

"Good. Good. You're feeling a lot better now, yeah?"

"Yeah."

Jake pressed his lips to Dirk's forehead. "That's good."

The two stayed in bed, tangled in each other's arms, for a little while longer until Jake sat up.

"Do you want some breakfast?" Jake asked.

Dirk nodded.

"You feel like you can eat?"

Another nod.

"Alright. Good. Come on."

Jake helped Dirk to his feet, holding onto both of his hands. When Dirk was up, he stood on his tiptoes so that he could give Jake a kiss on the lips. Jake smiled when he did, and he moved his hands to cup both sides of Dirk's face and kissed him again, this time a little harder and for a little bit longer. Dirk hummed happily when they broke apart.

"Hi," Jake murmured.

"Hi."

"Come on. I'll go get some food started."

They went into the kitchen, where Jake got out the pans and started cooking breakfast for them while Dirk sat and watched him from the kitchen table. Dirk rocked back and forth, sitting on his hands and humming quietly. He felt very fidgety today, and thankfully much much happier. It was one of the more rare aftermaths of a breakdown, but he wasn't complaining.

When Jake came over and set the food down, Dirk grunted and reached out for him. Jake came over to him and hugged him, bending down to kiss the top of his head. Dirk smiled and pressed his face into Jake's stomach.

"Hi, love," Jake said, gently brushing back Dirk's hair.

"Hi," Dirk echoed.

"Are you ok?"

"Ok."

"That's good. Do you want some food?"

Dirk nodded, looking up at him.

"Alright." Jake got Dirk a plate of the scrambled eggs he'd made and then made his own plate, sitting across from him. Dirk ate slowly and carefully, savoring each bite. It'd been a little while since he'd eaten real food, and Jake was a pretty good cook.

When he was finished, Jake took both of their plates to the kitchen while Dirk went to go sit on the couch. A few minutes later, Jake came and sat next to him. They turned so that they were sitting with their knees together. Dirk picked up Jake's hand, brushing it against his lips. Jake smiled and chuckled a little bit.

"Hi," he said. He laced his fingers into Dirk's and rubbed small circles on the back of his hand with his thumb.

"Hi." Dirk gently kissed Jake's palm and then hummed. "Hi."

"What do you want to do today? I'm off from work today."

"Off from work," Dirk echoed.

"Mm hmm. Do you want to go somewhere?"

"Go somewhere. Somewhere." Dirk pressed Jake's hand to his cheek, squeezing his eyes. He grunted quietly again and shook his head. He moved his hand so he could sign 'Sorry.'

"You're ok." Jake gently pulled Dirk over to him so he could hug him tightly. Dirk pressed his face into Jake's neck, humming softly in his throat. Jake kissed him on the cheek. "Do you want to go to the park? We can go down to the creek and you can play in the water. Does that sound nice?"

Dirk nodded, making a quiet sound of agreement. "Park."

"Alright. We'll go in a little while, ok?"

"Ok."

Jake pressed his lips to Dirk's cheek again. "I love you. Do you know that?"

"I love you," Dirk echoed, smiling against Jake's neck.

"I," Jake said, giving him a kiss after every word, "love you, and I will always love you no matter what."

Dirk giggled, snuggling a little closer to Jake. He felt a smile spread across his lips and he made a quiet sound in his throat as he moved to give Jake a kiss. "I love you."

"I love you too." Jake gave him a quick peck. He tightened his arms around Dirk's waist, holding him a little closer. Dirk laid his head in the crook of Jake's neck, resting his hand on Jake's chest. He closed his eyes, his own chest feeling warm and bubbly. He felt content with Jake. He felt safe. He felt secure. Like everything was ok in the world for that one moment. After a life full of constant torture and fear, it was a welcome repose.

Jake closed his eyes as well, gently and lazily rubbing circles into Dirk's back. After a few moments, he begun to hum quietly. It was a song that he sang fairly often, one his grandmother had sung to him when he was a young boy. He remembered every note and every word clear as day and he'd gotten into the habit of singing it to Dirk when he was happy and wasn't paying much attention. Dirk had become familiar with the song this way, and it acted as another Jake-related thing of comfort.

Dirk felt a small smile creep across his lips as he recognized the tune. He craned his neck around so that he could press his lips against Jake's jaw. He laid his head back down on Jake's chest, feeling the way it vibrated as he sang. It comforted and soothed him, making it hard for him to keep his eyes open. He closed them, gently gripping Jake's shirt in his fists, and within a few minutes he'd accidentally dozed off.

When Jake noticed he had, he stopped humming and started lightly running his fingers through Dirk's hair. He looked down at Dirk's slumbering form, his mouth open a fraction of an inch and his hand held slightly curled near his face. He looked so peaceful like this, so happy, so calm. He looked much younger too, with the usual creases of worry and anxiety in his eyebrows gone and the rest of his face smooth and soft-looking. His body was relaxed, subtlely snuggled up against him as if it were the most natural thing in the world. His breathing was slowly and steady and still barely audible in the stillness of the room. Jake felt a small smile spread across his lips as he watched his fiancé, and he gave him a gentle kiss on the top of the head.

After about ten or fifteen minutes, Dirk stirred, his eyebrows furrowing and a soft groan coming from him as he woke up. His eyes opened slowly and he blinked a few times before he looked up at Jake and smiled a little bit. He reached up to touch Jake's cheek, humming quietly as he did.

"Hi," Jake murmured.

"Hi." Dirk rubbed at his eye before signing 'Asleep?'

"Yeah, you fell asleep for a little bit."

"I fell asleep," Dirk repeated quietly. He traced small circles on Jake's chest. "Asleep." 'How long?' he signed.

"Just a few minutes. You must've been tired, huh?"

'A little bit.' Dirk moved so he could kiss Jake on the cheek. "M-my."

"Your what?"

"M-my Jake. Mine."

Jake smiled, letting out a quiet chuckle. He crooked his finger under Dirk's chin and lifted his face up so that he could kiss him on the lips. "That's right, love."

"That's right." Dirk nuzzled his face back into Jake's neck. He moved to wrap his arms around his neck, humming to himself.

Jake hugged Dirk closer to him, closing his eyes and resting his lips against the top of his head. They laid there for a while longer, until Jake moved so he could pull out his phone and check the time.

"We should start heading out soon," he murmured. To Dirk, he asked, "Do you want to go get ready?"

Dirk nodded, sitting so that Jake could get up. The two went to their bedroom, where Dirk went into the closet to pick out clean clothes and Jake went into the bathroom so that he could shower. Dirk pulled off his pajamas and tugged on a pair of jeans and a shirt. He sat down on the floor, hugging his knees to his chest and rocking back and forth for a bit before he selected a pair of his sneakers and stood back up. As he walked back out into the living room, he heard the shower turn on.

He set his shoes down by the back door and pushed it open and stepped outside, the wood of the porch still a little damp from dew. It was warm that morning, and the sky was a pretty shade of light blue with a few wispy white clouds. Dirk padded out to the middle of the yard and sat down in the grass, crossing his legs and rocking back and forth a bit. He ran his fingers through the grass, gripping it lightly in his fists and tugging on it.

He tore up a couple handfuls of it, piling it next to him and holding a few blades to his nose. He stood up after a little while and padded over to the tree near the fence. He reached up to tear down a couple of the better shaped leaves, putting them carefully into his pocket. He turned around and went back inside, putting his leaves on the table and wiping his hands on his pants as he walked back to their room.

He sat back on the bed, pulling his legs to his knees as he waited for Jake to come out. After a few minutes, the door to the bathroom opened and Jake walked out, shirtless with his hair still damp. He walked past Dirk into the closet, rummaging around for a shirt. Dirk stared at him as he got ready, at his toned and muscular back and his smooth cinnamon skin. Jake was in shape. Dirk knew that. He was in very good shape, in fact. He rarely ever got sick and he could pick up nearly twice Dirk's weight with ease. He had well defined muscles; you could see them even when he wasn't flexing--although Dirk himself liked the way they looked when he moved, he thought it looked graceful--but he wasn't necessarily extremely buff. He didn't have giant biceps or pecs or anything like that. Dirk didn't like that look of overly muscular people. His father had had friends who looked like that, with arms the size of hams and hands the size of dinner plates. They'd never done much to hurt him directly, but they had always looked at him almost hungrily, like he was the gazelle and they were the lions. Thankfully, Jake didn't look like any of them, and he didn't look at Dirk like that.

When Jake came back out, he was fully dressed and was trying to slip on his belt as he searched for his glasses. He noticed Dirk on the bed, and smiled at him, squinting to see him.

“Hi, love,” he said, walking around to the other side of the bed and sliding on his glasses. “Are you ready?”

Dirk nodded, gripping his toes.

“Ok. I'll be done in just a second, alright?”

“Ok,” Dirk repeated. He wrapped his arms around his legs, rocking back and forth a little bit, trying to get his restless fidgeting under control. “Ok.”

Jake came over to where he sat, stroking a hand through his hair. Dirk hummed when he did, moving his head so he could kiss the underside of Jake's wrist. Jake smiled when he did, and leaned down so he could kiss Dirk on the lips. Dirk smiled himself when he did, sitting back a little bit and stopping his rocking. Jake had that effect on him, that ability to calm his restlessness and his fidgeting with just a kiss or a touch on the arm or a hug. He was very good at discerning whether Dirk was stimming because he was just bored or content or because he was upset or frustrated or anxious. Being with him was always like a salve to his overactive nerves. Jake made him calmer and happier.

Dirk held onto his big toe with his thumb and forefinger, gently bending it back as far as it would go. He closed his eyes for a few moments and when he opened them again Jake was sitting beside him. Dirk stared at him for a moment, just taking in his appearance. His green eyes were bright and clear as ever, and his jet black hair was styled like it usually was, still a little damp from the shower (Dirk knew he never waited until his hair was fully dry). His skin was smooth and soft looking and there was just the slightest shadow of stubble along his sharp jawline. Slowly, Dirk reached out to brush his cheek, just a little bit.

“H...” he said softly. “H-hi.”

“Hi.”

Dirk cautiously laid his palm flat against Jake's cheek, his eyes traveling over his face. Jake gently placed his hand over Dirk’s, smiling at him a little bit.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked softly.

Dirk nodded, pulling his hand back. Jake stood up first and Dirk reached his arms out so he could help him up. He pressed his hand flat against Jake's chest, humming softly as he tried to work up the energy to say something.

“J... Jake,” he whispered.

Jake nodded, touching the wrist of the hand on his chest. “That's right. Good job.” He knew how difficult it was for Dirk to speak when he was nonverbal, especially his name in particular because of the ‘j’ sound. Usually it took him a couple minutes of floundering between a soft and a hard ‘g’ before he finally got it.

“Jake,” Dirk said again, pushing back on Jake's chest a bit for emphasis. He seemed to be saying it more to himself rather than to Jake, as if he were trying to remind himself of how the name felt on his tongue.

“Are you ready?” Jake asked him again.

Dirk nodded again. ‘We go,’ he signed.

“Alright. Do you remember where your rain boots are?”

Dirk twisted around and pointed to the door.

“Can you go get them, and I'll meet you in the car? I need to get us a towel.”

Dirk nodded. He turned from Jake and walked out into the hallway. He went around to the foyer, where he rummaged his way to the back of the coat closet, where he'd put his rain boots the last time they’d done this. He tucked them under his arm and went to the garage, where he climbed into the passenger seat and waited for Jake. He was only there for a minute or two until he saw Jake come through the doorway and heard the garage door open.

“Jake,” Dirk said softly to himself as Jake climbed into the car, putting the striped orange towel he'd brought in the backseat and then twisting back around to start the car. They backed out of the garage and were on their way.

Dirk stared out the window as they drove, taking in the familiar scenery that went zipping past. He had long since memorized the route to the park, and it had been a little while since they'd been so seeing it all again was nice. When they got to the park entrance, Dirk fidgeted in his seat excitedly. He forced himself to be patient until they had parked but once they were he couldn't wait to get out.

The park was sparsely filled, since it was still morning, with just a handful of children and their parents and a few people with dogs in the distance. The park was set up with two big fields on either side of a central walking trail. At the furthest end of the trail on the left was a playground and between that and the first field was a forest, with several trails of its own that led to a creek that it was backed up against. Jake came up beside Dirk as he stared off down the trail and slipped his hand into his.

“Where do you want to go first?” Jake asked.

‘Water,’ Dirk signed.

“Ok. Let's go.”

The two started off down the trail, past the fields and turned onto the dirt trail that led into the forest. The trees were abuzz with activity as birds sang and chirped and animals scurried through the branches. Dirk had his head craned up to look at the foliage, letting Jake lead the way. He liked the way the sunlight looked when it came through the leaves, all spotty and streaky. He looked ahead again, searching for the fork in the trail that led to the creek. When he spotted it, he pointed towards the right and hummed quietly to get Jake's attention.

“Oh, yeah, it's this way,” Jake said, going in that direction. “I'd forgotten.”

“Jake,” Dirk whispered.

The followed the trail for a couple hundred more yards, until Dirk caught a glimpse of the water and gasped softly. He gently tugged on Jake's hand, pointing urgently at the water.

“Mm hmm, I see it. Do you want to put your boots on first?” Jake asked as they turned another corner.

Dirk nodded, and then looked up as the creek came fully into view. It was rather wide, at least 10 feet or more in some places, and Dirk knew from experience that it was quite deep in some places as well. But the places he liked the best were the shallow little streams that veered away from the main river, carving out little sandbars and islands when they did. Here, he could observe the way the water flowed when things were put in its path. Plus, they tended to have more shells and pebbles that he liked than anywhere else.

Jake sat down on a log right by the shore, setting down the towel and giving Dirk his boots. Dirk sat beside him and carefully untied and slipped off his sneakers. He rolled up his pants a little bit and slid on his boots, and then padded over to the stream. He stepped in, the water flowing over his toes and swirling around his ankles. He smiled, loving the sound of the rushing water. He slowly raised and lowered his feet, watching the way the pebbles stirred and kicked up a bit of mud and let a few bubbles come up as well. He rolled up his sleeves and bent over, picking up a small rock with rounded dents in it. He turned it over in his hand for a moment and then slid it in his pocket.

He walked around a bit, searching for some bigger rocks to stack up under water. He found some and then went to an area that was a few inches deeper. He stacked them up as high as they would go without breaking the surface and then stepped back, satisfied with how the water curved up and over them. He looked up at Jake and pointed at it. Jake nodded and gave him a thumbs up. Dirk smiled a little bit and looked back down. He scanned around until he found a patch of grass growing along the shore. He ripped up a handful and then squatted down so he could sprinkle the blades into the water, a few inches away from his contraption. The grass flowed with the water and once it got to the rocks, most of them flowed around it. But a few that had been directly in front of it went over and got stuck in a small patch of rolling water just behind the rocks. They stayed there for a good while until eventually one by one the blades managed to escape and continue down the stream.


	10. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yknow i really wish i knew what this was supposed to be. i really do.  
> um it doesnt really fit w the current plot (("""""plot""""")) i guess. its quite literally the definition of drabble. but like its important in the context of the thing as a whole i guess

It was raining. Big, heavy, fat drops splattering on the sidewalk and drenching everything in sight. The parking lot of the library was almost an ocean, with furious foot long rivulets running down the cracks in the blacktop and towards the single clogged and already drowning storm drain. People darted to their cars, purses and newspapers and the occasional actual umbrella thrown over their heads, precious library books shoved into armpits and tucked under shirts, in a vain attempt to stay dry in the sudden monsoon that had started up at the drop of a hat. This was Texas in the summer. No one was surprised, but none of them were prepared either.

Dirk tightened his grip on the books in his hand, listening to the sound of the rain on the roof echoing in the empty foyer. The glass doors were blurry with streaks of rainwater, but he knew well enough he wouldn't be able to get back home. Not in this rain. He didn't have an umbrella or anything to protect him, and he had far too few spoons to deal with soaking wet clothes, and he had way too many books to try and protect anyways, and he was suddenly terrified that he would destroy them, and the library would know it was him who had allowed their entire stock of computer science manuals get absolutely soaked, and they would put his name on some kind of "do not serve" list and--

Dirk closed his eyes. Even just thinking about it, he could feel the sickly feeling of water running down his neck into his shirt, and the hot itchiness of his jeans being plastered to his legs and the disgusting squish of his feet swimming in his sopping wet shoes. He whined softly, shaking his head stiffly and squeezing his eyes shut tighter. He squeezed them three times and tensed his entire body for five seconds before he relaxed. He felt a little bit better. But he still needed to get home. He'd lost track of time after he got there and ended up staying until closing. Jane and Roxy had to have been worried sick about him by now. They were always worried sick about him in some way or another. But he couldn't call them to pick him up because he were certain they were busy and he'd feel horrible if he interrupted either of them while they were doing something important, even though they'd said they'd do anything for him, no matter--

"Hello."

Dirk started, his train of thought suddenly interrupted by the voice outside of his head. He looked over, heart beating hard in his chest, and saw the person standing beside him. Or rather, he thought, he recognized him.

It was a young man, around his age, maybe a few month older, with dark chocolate brown--or was it jet black?--hair and a pair of wire frame glasses perched on his nose. His skin was smooth and tan, much darker than Dirk's sickly alabaster, and when Dirk looked over at him he was immediately taken by his piercing, deep emerald green eyes. The man smiled a bit. Dirk took half a step back.

Yes. Dirk recognized him. He knew him from here at the library. He'd seen him all over for the past two or three months: putting books away, working at the front desk, even studying himself at one of the tables. He'd always stuck out in Dirk's mind because he was the only 19 year old who worked at the entire branch, and because every time he met Dirk's eyes--which was quite often because Dirk had a bad habit of not knowing when to look away if he made eye contact with strangers--he'd smile a little bit. He'd even spoken to him a handful of times, although it was usually just to ask if he needed any help and it was almost always replied to with a soft whimper of alarm and a wordless headshake. But either way, Dirk recognized the man and it made his face heat up for some reason.

"It's really coming down out there, huh?" the man murmured, turning to look out at the rain as well. He had a thick British accent. It made Dirk's chest feel tight.

"It's really coming down there, huh," Dirk repeated softly to himself, dropping his head to look at his dirty, scuffed up shoes. "It's really coming."

The man leaned forward to open up his umbrella and then started to walk forwards to push open the door. But before he could move more than a step, he stopped and turned to Dirk.

"The library's closed," he said.

"I know."

"Well, don't you have to go home, then?"

"Yes."

The man tilted his head to the side a bit. "Do you have an umbrella?"

"No." Dirk knew he was staring. He could feel it. The man was probably squirming and uncomfortable, but even if he had been Dirk wouldn't have been able to tell. He looked away again, down at a piece of old gum on the carpeting by the door.

"Oh." The man shifted and was quiet for a second. "Well, I wouldn't want to see you get soaking wet. Here," he said, walking over to the door and extending his umbrella arm out while he rested the other against the handle. "I'll walk you to your car."

Dirk's face reddened. "I can't drive," he said softly. That wasn't the right thing to say. He could've said he didn't have a car, or that he simply hadn't gotten there by car, or--

"Oh. Well then, what did you take? Or did you walk here? I could walk you back home if it doesn't let up soon. I don't mind."

"Bus," Dirk mumbled, his cheeks burning bright red. "I took the bus."

"I can walk you to the bus stop, then, if you'd like," the man offered with a small shrug and a gentle half smile. "It's the least I could do."

Dirk stared at him. He didn't blink. He was trying to analyze the situation (that was what Jane always told him to do) but he kept getting distracted by the man's eyes. They weren't necessarily a very unique color, lots of people had green eyes, but _his_ were just so... mesmerizing. They didn't even hurt to look at, like so many other people's did. In fact, he _liked_ looking at them. It felt odd to him, but he didn't mind for some reason. No. That wasn't what he should've been focused on. How long had it been? More than ten seconds? He needed to come up with something to say; Jane and Roxy and Dave had all said that you were supposed to answer someone's question quickly or else they would think you hadn't heard you, and they would saying louder and angrier and it always made Dirk--

"Ok," he said softly, not breaking eye contact. He had to be making him uncomfortable by now. But he didn't seem to mind. Dirk saw him smile wider and for a second he felt the corner of his own lip twitch a bit. He had a habit of copying people's actions too.

"Good. I would've felt horrible if I just left you stranded here," the man said, pushing the door open all the way, making the steady drum of rain louder in the empty foyer. He held his umbrella outside and then gestured for Dirk to come to him. "Let's go, then."

Dirk tightened his grip on his books and shyly stepped towards the man, padding outside onto the lake of a sidewalk, his body kept dry by the man's dark green umbrella. When the man let go of the door and joined him, Dirk automatically took a half step away from him. His heart, briefly calmed by the awe of staring at his eyes, started thumping loudly in his chest again. He swallowed hard as the two of them started off into the downpour. Their shoes sloshed through the good inch and a half of water overflowing onto the concrete and Dirk could feel raindrops soaking his jeans, but the books, at least, were safe.

They walked across the front of the library, down to the corner and turned to get to the bus stop half a block away. It wasn't a very far distance, but for to Dirk it might as well have been 20 miles. He kept glancing over at the man from the corner of his eye and scooting away from him ever so slightly. He was probably disgusted by him. He had to be. He hadn't showered in a few days, and he hadn't washed his hoodie or his jeans in a few weeks; not to mention his stringy too-long hair and his pasty skin and the fact that he was borderline emaciated. He had to be absolutely revolted.

Dirk tried to catch his breath, panting softly. He wasn't physically tired, but the anxiety in his chest was so bad it was making him start hyperventilating and even tremble a little bit, and suddenly he was terrified that he was going to throw up. God, please no, he couldn't puke in front of him. He couldn't add "vomiting mess" to the list of things that were bad about him.

"You don't have to walk so far away from me, you know," the man said gently. "I won't bite."

Dirk glanced over at him for a moment and swallowed hard. "S-sorry," he mumbled, looking down.

"Here. I don't want you getting rained on," the man said, reaching over and gently linking arms with Dirk, pulling him closer to him. Dirk's entire face felt like it was in flames and he could feel himself start shaking harder. He hoped the man didn't notice. He kept his eyes to the ground as they walked, watching the way their shoes looked beside each other. Dirk's scuffed Converse next to his spotless tennis shoes. Dirk's threadbare, dingy orange hoodie next to his clean new olive windbreaker. His cinnamon arm intertwined with Dirk's ivory one.

By the time they reached the bus stop, the rain had finally let up a tiny bit. It was coming down pretty hard, but at the very least the pounding of the rain on the umbrella got a little gentler. As they approached the stop, Dirk could see the bus round the corner a little ways down the street.

"Just in time," the man said with a smile. "Lucky us." He looked at Dirk and gave him a smile that made his neck tingle. "You be safe on your way home, alright? It's still pretty bad out here."

Dirk nodded slowly. He took in the man once more as he step from under the umbrella to under the bus shelter. His eyes stopped on his chest for a moment and then he looked back up at his eyes as the bus pulled up. Without a word, he turned and stepped onto the bus. He paid and sat down and he didn't turn to look out the window until the bus was already starting to move. He managed to just catch the man finish waving, dropping his hand and turning back around to go to his own car. Dirk turned back to the front, looking at his hands in his lap. His books, thankfully almost entirely unscathed, sat in the seat beside him. It was ok; not many other people were on the bus anyways.

He had still had his nametag on, clipped to the pocket of his shirt. The edge of his jacket had almost been covered it completely, but at the last moment, he'd shifted a tiny bit and exposed it, and Dirk had been able to read it.

_Jake._

***


	11. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> looks like its the time of the night where i just start churning out crack timeline after crack timeline usually involving dirk suffering in some other incredibly outlandish way and then i keep posting them even though no one wants them ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pft this just doesnt make any sense anymore  
> this...is probably not part of the canon timeline its just this...thing i guess that i thought of a couple days ago tht i started hyperfixating on and my brain wouldnt let me go back to the canon timeline unless i wrote something about it so...here, i guess  
> p.s. i dont know anything about epilepsy

  
  
  


Dirk woke up quietly, staring up at the ceiling. Jake was already missing from the other side of the bed, and he could hear water running in the bathroom. He sat up slowly, raising his hand to press it against his forehead. He closed his eyes. He felt off. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but it felt like there was something wrong. He didn't quite feel sick, but he also didn't feel completely well.

He stood up, his knees cracking softly as he did, and padded over to the bathroom to go to Jake. The other man was just toweling off his face when Dirk approached him and gently slipped his arms around his waist, resting his chin on his shoulder and humming softly.

"Hi, sweetie," Jake murmured, craning his head back to kiss Dirk on the forehead. He started to pull away but stopped a few inches away and then pressed his mouth there again for a moment. "Hmm." He pulled away again and turned around to rest the back of his hand there for another second.

"You feel warm," Jake said softly, moving his hand to cup the side of Dirk's face. "Do you feel alright?"

"Kind of."

"Do you feel sick?"

"No." Dirk thought for a moment. "Not really."

"Mm." Jake tested his forehead again. "You'll tell me if you start feeling worse, ok?"

Dirk nodded.

"Good."

Dirk reached out to hug Jake again, resting his head against his chest. Jake hugged him back, kissing him on the top of the head.

"Hello, sweet," Jake said. "Are you hungry? Do you want breakfast?"

Dirk nodded. "Mm hmm."

"Alright. Just a minute, ok?"

"Ok." Dirk pulled away from him so he could finish getting ready. In the meantime, he changed out of his pajamas into a pair of jeans and a hoodie and went out into the living room. He stopped in the halway for a moment, pressing his hand against his temple and closing his eyes. His head had throbbed sharply enough for him to flinch. Now he had a dull ache spreading throughout his whole head. It was odd, yes, but it didn't hurt very much, so he decided to ignore it.

He sat down in front of the TV, turning it on. There was a documentary about sharks on. A little while later, he heard Jake in the kitchen, brewing them tea and making a small breakfast for the two of them. Just as a great white shark leapt from the water to grab a desperately fleeing seal, Jake called him over to the table. Dirk ate carefully, humming softly and gently bouncing his foot against the floor. The tea, peppermint with just enough sugar to make it taste a little like a candy cane, helped his headache a little bit. When he was done, he went back to watch the rest of the documentary. Jake had the day off, and sat on the couch with his laptop to work on some schoolwork. Dirk was secretly grateful that he was staying home. He couldn't figure out why, but he knew he wouldn't have felt safe if he had been home alone.

Dirk got bored with the documentary after a while (he already knew everything it was telling him) so he turned to work on his coding. He managed to get out a couple dozen good lines of code, but it was slow going and he felt unfocused the entire time. His headache had slowly but surely been returning and now it was starting to hurt worse than before. He glanced up at Jake, who was working diligently, his face focused and serious, papers and notebooks spread out all around him. He'd told him to tell him if he started feeling worse. But he was already doing something, and Dirk felt bad interrupting him just for some dumb little thing. Dirk ignored his new headache, instead going outside to go sit on the lawn.

When he got outside, he winced immediately, as the glaring sunlight made his eyes sting and burn and made his head throb about a million times worse. After a few minutes, he had adjusted and he was able to walk out into the middle of the yard, sitting down cross legged. He kept his head down, running his fingers through the long grass. He closed his eyes for a few minutes, letting the smells of the outdoors and the sound of the birds and the coolness of the grass soothe him. He laid back, putting his hand over his eyes to shield them. He sighed softly. His head still hurt. He rolled over onto his stomach, staring squint eyed at the grass right in front of his face. He noticed a couple clumps of clover near him. He sat up, suddenly interested, and carefully picked the longest ones he could find and then carried them inside so he could make a flower chain. As he stood up, though, he stumbled and nearly fell and when he reached the door, it took him a few tries to grab the handle and pull it open, as if he suddenly couldn't figure out how to hold it.

He put his flowers down on the table, more roughly than he'd intended to, moving his hand to his forehead again. It suddenly hurt about a million times worse.

"Jake," he mumbled, his voice sounding slurred and thick. "I don'... feel good..."

"Dirk?" Jake called from the living room. Dirk's hearing went fuzzy and he could barely hear Jake's footsteps.

"I can't..." Dirk whispered.

Jake swore softly under his breath and took Dirk by the hand. "Come here. Sit down. C'mon." He led him over to the couch and laid him down, crouching beside him. Dirk whined, squirming and rubbing his palms against his forehead.

"It hurts," he whispered.

"I know, love. I know. Just one second, though, ok?"

Dirk squeezed his eyes shut, whimpering softly, and then suddenly stiffened, his entire body tensing up at once. He stayed like that for a few seconds, breathing heavily and fearfully through his nose the entire time, his mouth having clamped shut too tightly for him to breathe. Jake closed his eyes as well, sighing softly.

"It's ok. You're ok," he said gently, reaching out to lightly stroke his forehead. "You're ok."

Drk tried to speak, but he couldn't get his mouth to cooperate with him. He could hardly breathe, his chest seemingly stuck in one position so that he couldn't draw in enough air. He was gripping his hands into fists so hard that he could feel his nails digging into his palms. His back was arched painfully and his head had been thrown back so that his neck was all the way extended. He tried to move, but everything just turned into short, stiff twitches.

"You're ok. You're ok. I'm right here," Jake said again, brushing back his hair from his face. Dirk just barely managed to wrench one eye open a bit before they rolled back in his head and he started shaking and jerking harder. His legs were kicking stiffly and his arms, still stuck with his fists against his forehead, were twitching back and forth violently. His breathing became ragged and strangled as it continued and his lips turned white from how hard he had his mouth shut. He couldn't speak, but he kept letting out the occasional choked gasp.

"You're alright. It's alright," Jake murmured, leaning over him so he could turn him onto his side. "It's gonna be over soon. You're ok."

Dirk kept twitching and shaking for a couple minutes more until finally it started to die down. His body eventually relaxed enough that he could finally breathe and he took in a loud gasp of air. He took in a couple deep gulps and then started sobbing. Jake leaned forward to hugm him, pressing his lips to the top of his head and closing his eyes.

"Oh, I know," Jake said, rubbing his back. "I know. You're ok now. It's over now. You're safe. You're safe. It's over."

Dirk let out a louder whimper, sitting up so he could wrap his arms around Jake. He was still panting and gasping to catch his breath, tears running down his cheeks. As he clung to him, Jake could feel all his muscles trembling from sheer fatigue. The seizures weren't a new thing. They had certainly been much more common in the past year, but according to Dirk's reports he'd been having them since he was a child. He had never been officially diagnosed as epileptic, and Jake had been considering taking him to a specialist so he could get something prescribed, but he'd never gotten around to it. He hated seeing Dirk in this much distress and he hated being so utterly helpless to fix it.

Jake climbed onto the couch, pulling Dirk into his lap and slowly rocking back and forth with him, all the while pressing his lips against his neck and humming softly in his ear.

"You're ok, love," he whispered. "You're ok."

Dirk whimpered, still gasping and crying softly, but let himself melt into Jake's embrace. Gradually, he let himself relax and then the exhaustion of it all swept over him and he practically went limp. He was so tired he could hardly keep his eyes open and he kept nodding off.

"Do you want to take a nap?" Jake asked his quietly. There was a brief pause before he gently nodded his head. "Alright." Jake moved so that they could lie down and Dirk turned around so he could wrap his arms around Jake's neck and fell asleep almost immediately. He was breathing slowly and his eyebrows were still knit together fearfully, tear stains on his cheeks and his lips red from how hard they had been pressed together. Jake brushed back Dirk's hair and then slid his arms around the other man's slight frame, holding him close and closing his eyes as well.

He wanted so badly to protect him from everything.

****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im swallowing a knife...


	12. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> guess what biiiitch  
> u thought i was goddamn done? hell no i have so much shit planned for this boy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [sighs] i have been...thinking about this one for...a long time it has just taken me a while to actually get around to writing it  
> i donot want to spoil shit but...i actually have to so !!!tw!!!: graphic self harm

Dirk held his breath. That was what he always did. It helped keep him steady, on the off chance that he was shaking a bit. He rarely shook. A few seconds later he exhaled, closing his eyes as a wave of calm ran over him. He took a few slow, deep breaths, resting his hand on the counter in front of him and waiting for the dull burning to stop. That was the worst part of the whole thing, he thought. That pain. He usually ignored it, though. The whole of the experience was worth a little discomfort.

 

Dirk looked down at what he'd done, running his finger over it a few times, stretching out the skin around it. It looked fine, but he needed better. He could do better. He could do much better. Carefully, he wiped his fingers on the washcloth he had with him and then picked up his tool again, turning it thoughtfully in his hand before he selected his next spot. Half an inch above the other one, give or take a few fractions. He was always exact and precise with this.

 

He pressed the tip against his skin, his hand flinching away almost imperceptibly when the sharp edge of the razor bit into his skin a little. He had to control it, or it wasn't going to make him feel better. Slowly, he repositioned the blade, just barely letting it touch his skin, and after waiting a moment to hold his breath, he pressed down and ripped it across his arm. His eyes squeezed shut at the sharp sting of pain that ran up his forearm, but at the same time a pleasurable shiver of satisfaction ran down his spine. He groaned softly, clenching and unclenching his free hand into a fist to loosen up the burning. Blood ran down his arm in hot crimson rivulets, veering over either side of his wrist and running down to the tips of his fingers, where they collected and dripped into the already blood splattered sink. He had decided he liked collecting the blood in the sink better than anywhere else; tissues were just too much of a mess, and he didn't bathe often enough to do it in the shower (not to mention how it would sound for him to turn on the water to rinse it all away and emerge from the bathroom still fully dry). With the sink, he could simply wash it all with water, and he could play it off as though he were washing his hands.

 

He put down the razor blade and ran his finger over the new wound, stretching the skin on either side of it, trying to see how deep it went. It had felt deeper than the last one, but he knew just that wouldn't have been enough to cut through any serious layers. He was a little bit disappointed. It was rare that it ever happened, but he'd been secretly hoping to have cut down to the subcutaneous fat.

 

 _Knock knock._ “Dirk? Are you in there?”

 

Dirk froze. His breath caught in his throat. Had he locked the door? He couldn't remember all of a sudden.

 

“Dirk, are you alright? You've been in there a while.”

 

Dirk didn't say anything back. Suddenly it felt like his tongue was stuck with glue to the roof of his mouth. He heard the door opening and all he could do was curl his hand into a fist, hiding his razor blade.

 

He heard Jake stop once he opened the door. Dirk was staring straight ahead at the mirror and from the corner of his eye he could see Jake's form still standing by the door. He himself was blinking back a stinging he felt behind his eyes and his breath was coming a lot faster than it had been before. He braced his arms on the counter, closing his eyes before he burst into tears. He heard the floor creak and then felt Jake come up behind him, gently holding his shoulders.

 

Jake moved his right hand and placed it over Dirk's. “Let me have it.”

 

Dirk dropped his head and opened his eyes to watch as he loosened his fist, the blood tinted razor blade nestled like a bird in his palm. Jake placed his palm over Dirk's, picking up the blade and slipping it into his pocket. Distantly, Dirk felt a surge of panic and sadness. That was one of the last ones he'd had hidden.

 

Jake stopped for another moment. He sighed softly in Dirk's ear and when Dirk looked up at the mirror again he had his eyes closed, his mouth pressed to the top of Dirk's head. While Dirk was watching, he opened his eyes, his gaze falling on his bloody left arm. He looked at the sink as well and closed his eyes again.

 

“Oh, sweetie,” Jake whispered. After another moment, he straightened up and sighed, meeting Dirk's eyes in the mirror. Dirk could feel himself trembling now and he was just barely fighting back the tears. Jake turned him around and led him over to sit on the edge of the tub while he went to get the first aid kit.

 

He stared at his arm, at his sadistic work. They went all the way from his forearm to halfway up his wrist. The blood had started to congeal already. He should've felt sickened, he should've felt _horrified_ , but instead he felt... nothing. Seeing his own blood smeared across his skin and the counter and the sink stirred up nothing in him. It should have. He knew that.

 

Jake came back with the first aid kit and a wet paper towel. He didn't use Dirk's washcloth because he knew that even just picking it up sickened him. A piece of cloth stiff with your fiancé’s own dried blood.

 

Jake wiped the blood from Dirk's cuts, taking care to go slowly and get all the clotted bits. He took out an antiseptic wipe and ran it over each of his wounds once, almost machine like. Dirk clenched his other hand into a fist when it stung. Jake took out a length of gauze and some cotton bandages and Dirk watched as he placed the bandages on the cuts and then wrapped the gauze around his arm slowly until his whole arm was wrapped in white.

 

Jake collected all the wrapped and the paper towels and threw them in the trash. He came back and sat next to Dirk again. Dirk crossed his arms over his stomach and looked in the other direction, his heart thumping hard in his chest.

 

“Dirk.”

 

He ignored him.

 

“Dirk, look at me.” Jake voice was gentle, so very gentle. Dirk closed his eyes tightly, biting his lip to keep from crying. Again with the crying. He was _always_ crying. God, why did he have to be such a weakling?

 

“Come here,” Jake said softly, sliding his arms around Dirk. Dirk tensed up, digging his fingernails into his arm as his lip started quivering. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter and shook his head once slowly before he started shivering and let out a choked gasp. Jake held him tighter as he started sobbing, letting out pathetic, ugly whimpers and sniffles as fat warm tears went streaking down his cheeks. Still unable to talk coherently, Dirk shakily signed, _I'm sorry_.

 

“It's ok,” Jake said. He sighed softly. “It's ok. I'm not mad.” He leaned over to kiss on him on the top of the head. Softly, he murmured, “I'm not mad.”

 

***

 

That night, Dirk sat in bed, his legs to his chest and his arms crossed on his knees. It was 1:47 am. He couldn't sleep. He _wouldn't_ sleep. He didn't quite think he deserved it at the moment.

 

This was their little song and dance, their ritual, almost. Dirk would have some kind of breakdown and end up in the bathroom slashing at his arm. Jake would notice he was gone. He would come in, find him there, take his razor blade, wrap his wounds, and hold him as he sobbed.

 

The crying. He always cried. Usually he could hold it off until later, but sometimes he would burst into tears as soon as Jake opened the door. Jake never yelled at him. He never got angry. He always said that: _I'm not mad._ He never said he was _anything_. Not mad, not sad, not confused. Maybe he was hiding his feelings just to protect Dirk. He didn't know.

 

He put his head down in his arms, part of his forehead rubbing against the gauze on his arm. Here he was, 27 years old, and still unable to kick the habit he'd picked up when he was 11. The first time hadn't been... this. It had been a tiny microscopic scratch with a safety pin. It barely even bled; just one pinhead sized droplet of blood that dried a minute later. But somehow, just that little bit was enough to make him feel a million times better and make him want more the next time, and more after that, and more after that, and more after that until he was 14 and his wrists were already covered in thin white hairline scars. Dave had noticed years before. Tried to get him to stop by hiding all the sharp things in the house or guilting him out of it or getting upset every time he slipped up. It wasn't always anger. It was disappointment usually. That was what stung the most to him. At least anger he was used to from his dad. Disappointment was a whole other ballgame.

 

And then... Dave left. It was just him and his dad. Everything got a million times harder and a million times worse instantly. At the very least, though, no one cared anymore whether he was cutting or not. The cuts got deeper. He first saw the white pearly flesh under his skin at 15. He hit his first capillary at 16. He saw his first shiny yellow bubble of fat at 17, and the night after graduation, at 2am, he made his first gaping wound, as wide as his pinky and lined with fat cells. It bled for five minutes and he could see his pulse in the blood flow.

 

Even after he left his dad's, he kept doing it. Have a flashback. Cut. Have a nightmare. Cut. Get depressed, even just a little. Cut. Be left alone for too long. Cut. Jane and Roxy started babysitting him during the day. That only made him worse. He learned how to hide it. He started making stashes of blades and hiding them around the house. Them caring somehow made him feel like even more of a selfish piece of shit than he had when he'd been with his dad. Then the cuts became angry, and nine times out of ten angry meant deeper. At their house, for the first and hopefully last time, he made a cut that was deep enough to need stitches. It wasn't very long, maybe two and a half inches, but it shook all of them. He stopped. One month, two months, six months, a year. He was a year and one month clean when he met Jake. Both arms were smattered with scars up to the elbow, but he didn't seem to care. When he moved in with him he was two years and a handful of months.

 

And then. He had a particularly horrible wave of flashbacks that sent him into a panic attack and suddenly he was back to being a terrified kid, trying to escape and when he came back into himself he was in the bathroom, hunched over a bloody arm with a razor blade in his fist, with Jake knocking at the door. There was blood on the tiles. The remnants of a viciously torn apart plastic razor were scattered before him. When Jake came in, he was already sobbing and shivering. It took ten minutes of holding him and rocking him to get his tears to slow even a little bit. Jake cleaned up his cuts; Dirk could feel that his hands were shaking. Later that night, they talked about it. Dirk told Jake he'd been doing it since he was a kid, that it was his dad's fault. Jake told Dirk for the first time that he wasn't mad, that he just wanted to understand why. Dirk couldn't explain it. Even after all those years, he couldn't figure out what was so addicting about it. Jake said it was ok. He simply asked him to tell him if he felt like he was going to hurt himself.

 

That was the beginning of their ritual. That had been years ago.

 

Dirk raised his head and uncrossed his arms, pulling at a loose bit of gauze near his wrist.

 

“Don't pick at it.”

 

Dirk jumped a little bit. Jake was beside him, sitting up and looking at him. His face was drawn and serious. He looked tired.

 

Dirk blinked at him a few times. “I thought you were asleep,” he mumbled softly, crossing his arms again.

 

“I was. I woke up a little bit ago.”

 

Dirk put his head down in his arms, squeezing his eyes shut. _Again with the crying_ , he thought. He managed to swallow the lump in his throat and took a soft shuddering breath. Silence hung in the still air between them.

 

“You never get mad at me,” Dirk whispered. Jake didn't say anything for a few seconds and Dirk thought that maybe he hadn't heard him when he spoke.

 

“That's because I never have a reason to,” he said. Dirk looked back at him, his eyebrows drawn in confusion. Jake exhaled softly and sat up, leaning back against the headboard. “I know you, Dirk. I know you very well and I know that getting angry with you won't help either of us. And it's not that you doing... this makes me angry anyways.”

 

“It doesn't?” Dirk asked softly.

 

“No. It makes me upset, yes, but it doesn't make me angry. It's closer to fear, I think. I don't like seeing you hurt or in pain.”

 

“It doesn't hurt that much.”

 

“I know. Not for you. But it hurts me to see them on your skin, if that makes any sense.”

 

Dirk looked away. “I'm sorry.”

 

“It's ok.” Jake was quiet for a moment. “Can I ask _you_ something?”

 

“What?”

 

“Do you... ever see yourself stopping? Is that something you could imagine?”

 

Dirk thought for a moment. “I don't know.”

 

“Alright.”

 

“I'm supposed to... I'm supposed to want to stop, right?” Dirk asked. “I'm supposed to think that it's bad and I'm supposed to not want to do it anymore. Right?”

 

“Do you think that?”

 

“I know it's bad. Everyone keeps telling me that. But I can't... imagine doing anything else when I'm upset. Nothing else feels like it... fits right.”

 

Jake nodded. “It's hard to quit something unless you want to for yourself.”

 

Dirk closed his eyes. “I'm sorry,” he mumbled, putting his head down in his crossed arms again. “I'm not...”

 

“It's ok, love.”

 

The room was silent for a few more moments. Dirk's eyes started stinging again and tears started welling up in them. “What’s wrong with me?” Dirk whispered.

 

“You know I can't answer that, love,” Jake said sadly. “This is just how you were made.”

 

Dirk curled into a tighter ball as he started crying harder. Jake scooted over to him and hugged him, resting his cheek against Dirk's head.

 

“Shh. It's ok,” he murmured, rubbing his back. “It's ok. Come here.”

 

Dirk turned around to hug Jake, resting his mouth against his bare shoulder. He clung to him tighter than he wanted to, his body trembling slightly. _How goddamn pathetic._

 

“Come on, let's go to sleep, ok?” Jake said, brushing back his hair. “You'll feel better in the morning once you've gotten some rest.”

 

Dirk sniffled softly and nodded. Jake slid back under the covers and Dirk joined him, nestling up close against him. Jake slid his arms around him, holding him firmly. Within minutes, Jake had fallen back asleep, his breathing slow and steady as his chest rose and fell against Dirk's back. Dirk curled up against him, placing one hand over Jake's where it rested against his stomach and putting the other between his head and his pillow. He stared at the alarm clock’s glowing blue numbers until he finally fell asleep. The numbers read 2:12.

 

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter he gets every single eating disorder all at once bye bye


	13. Catacombs (Chapter 12)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> boy howdy i wish i had answers for this..um...
> 
> i dont know if this is canon. its either canon or in a timeline thats practically identical to canon. probably the second one bc i never mentioned any of this before now. i dont know honestly. lets say its a timeline for now
> 
> i just...i dont know. here it is i suppose
> 
> !!!tw!!!: child sexual abuse

Dirk was trembling. He had his arms wrapped around his body, so tightly it were as if he was just barely able to hold himself together. His entire frame was shaking like a leaf, so hard his teeth were practically chattering. He was curled into a tight ball, his knees pulled up to his chest. His skin felt cold and sweaty and he kept trying to squeeze his eyes shut. But every time he did, the images flashed across his eyelids again.

That room, the room where it all happened.

Dirk let out a soft gasp, tears running down his cheeks. He could hardly breathe, his breath getting stuck in his throat and making his chest feel horrible and tight. He'd been feeling off all day, but now everything was piling up and coming to a terrible climax. He didn't even know where these memories were coming from; he hadn't thought of most of this in years he thought.

But even still, he could remember the men's faces clear as day, sickly sweet, perverted grins plastered on their faces.

Where was Jake? He couldn't remember all of a sudden. He was too panicked. Work? Was that it? It sounded right--Jake would never ignore the sound of him crying like this--but at the same time the memory of him leaving the house in the morning was missing. Either way, his heart was beating wildly in his chest, so hard it felt like he might have a heart attack.

They weren't supposed to look at him like that. With that hungry, greedy look in their eyes, as if he were a piece of meat and they were starving lions. As if they could barely keep their hands off him.

They weren't supposed to be there in the first place. They were men, his father's friends, fully grown men in their 20s and 30s and even a few in their 40s, Dirk thought. He was a child. He was barely 7, although everyone agreed he was built like he was still 6. He barely spoke to anyone other than Dave and he refused to look anyone in the eye. He was shy. He was passive.

Maybe that was why they chose him.

Dave was always there too, in the other room usually, but they rarely paid any attention to him. At 11, it seemed to Dirk like he had so much more to offer than him. But for whatever reason, it was Dirk they fixated on. It was him they salivated over every time they laid eyes on him.

They were almost always at their house, making a racket the boys could hear from upstairs where their father put them away every time (with threat of an extra beating if they came downstairs), and making a huge mess when they left in the form of about a million crushed cans and cigarette butts strewn over the floor, and a thick haze of second hand smoke that usually send Dirk into a coughing fit. They always had to it clean up, since their father was usually too busy being passed out somewhere else in the house, and uncleaned messes meant beatings, no matter who first made them.

But in between that.

Their father didn't seem to care that they explored his house freely, opening doors and rummaging through closets and boxes and taking what they wanted (so long as it wasn't his) and wandering drunkenly, even venturing up the stairs sometimes. The guest bedroom was almost directly across from the stairs. Drunk men were curious men. Almost always the same initial grunt of surprise at finding a tiny pale boy sitting alone in the room. Some of them left once they realized Dirk was all that was in there. Some of them didn't.

Some of them lingered. Some of them stared at him, their eyes moving slowly enough that Dirk knew they were looking over his entire body. Some of them smiled a little bit.

Some of them stepped inside.

Some of them closed the door.

He remembered the hands. Crawling, groping, feeling, touching, all over him like sick hot spiders, going everywhere, all over him in an instant, leaving burning tracks where they scuttled over his skin. Some of them were slower, savoring the moments, gently brushing over his shin, his knee, his thigh. Touching some places he knew. Lingering in other places he didn't, gripping some things in a way he didn't like. Sliding off his shirt. He tugged it back down. The hands, and the bodies attached to them, were much stronger than him. The sheer weight pressed him into the floor so much he thought he would dissolve into it. He half hoped he could. They held him down with barely any effort, and then he was helpless and weak, just like always. The hands roamed further. His waist. _No._ His jeans. _No._ His legs trembled, goosebumps prickling up in the cold air, despite how warm their bodies always were. Sometimes, boxers. _No!_ Sometimes not. He never knew for sure. It was like a sick, sadistic surprise when the answer was yes. Sometimes, only with a few of them, rough cracked lips touched his pale skin, ghosting over the curve his neck or his cheek, or sometimes, just once or twice, pressed against his own mouth. They tasted like cigarettes and liquor. The word was in his head: _no._ It rarely got past his tongue. If it did, it was so soft it was barely audible over the heavy panting and the sound of skin sliding over skin. Everything reeked of alcohol and body odor and gunpowder. He didn't understand what was happening to him, but he didn't like it. He didn't know why. He didn't know who God was, but he prayed nonetheless for it to be over: simple endless repetitions of _please_ in his head. It never worked, not from what he could tell.

Eventually. Eventually, it got too late or they thought they'd been gone too long or they would get bored or they would utter a low soft groan and stop, apparently deciding suddenly that they were finished. They would get off. He could breathe again. They would get up. Straighten their clothes if they needed to. They would leave. Dirk would be alone again. Clothing optional. He never knew how he felt. There were always tears on his cheeks, but he never thought he should've been crying because he didn't feel sad. He thought maybe he should. But he never did.

Instead, he felt dirty. He felt filthy, like his entire body had been covered in a layer of dirt and sheer badness. His skin was still on fire where the fingers had trailed up his sides and down his arms. They might leave scars, he thought, it hurt so tangibly. He felt wrong. He didn't know why. He felt for some reason as though it shouldn't have happened, as though he'd been attacked, almost. This wasn't right. He knew that. He couldn't pinpoint what exactly about it was making him feel so horrible, but there was _something_ there. He knew it. He could feel it.

Only when he was 8 and a half did the men stop showing up at his house. He and Dave were getting too big to hide, perhaps. Dirk didn't care about the specifics, though. The first weekend they weren't there, he nearly wept in relief. He knew something had been changed about him because of this. He knew something was different.

He didn't want anyone to touch him. Even just a gentle brush felt like he had been punched, and it brought back with him its own flood of shaky patched together images of the ceiling of that room, the feeling of tipping his head back so he wouldn't have to watch, the cold hardwood leeching the warmth from his bare back and arms and legs, hands curving over his thighs to reach between his legs. Closed doors were fine, but as soon as he heard them start to open he'd flinched, reaching up and grabbing his stomach with a white knuckled fist, panic swelling up in his chest and pushing everything else out so much so that twice he threw up during class. Deep voices gave him chills; so did most men over 5' 8". He withdrew even more from the few acquaintances he'd accumulated after spending several years together in school. They didn't notice. The only person he was talking to anymore was Dave, and even then his vocabulary had shrunken to only about a few dozen or so words. He was changed now. Something was different.

Above all else, he always felt guilty. Like it was all his fault.

Dirk brought his hands to his ears, pressing his palms against them desperately, breathing in short ragged gasps. His vision was blurry. He couldn't close his eyes, could hardly even stand to blink, because every time he did, he saw one of their smiles, wide and sadistic and evil. The images kept flashing before his eyes, combining with the old feeling of filth and fear. He had learned over the years that he also felt ashamed of it all. He didn't know why. He always asked Jake, but he didn't know either. It wasn't his fault, Dirk didn't think. It was them who had found him and made the decision to come into the room and close the door. Dirk hadn't had a hand in that choice in any of them. But he didn't know for sure. Some people, occasionally Dave too, told him he should've done more than just lie there and take it. He could've screamed for help. He could've fought. He could've said no. He never told those people that his body had always been so paralyzed by fear and confusion that he could hardly breathe. He never told them his voice wouldn't have carried to anyone who could help him. He never told them how hard the weight of their bodies pressed him into the ground, or how easily they could ignore whatever soft pleas and whimpers he could manage to make.

"No, no, no, no, no," Dirk whispered, digging his fingernails into the skin around his ears. He could feel it on his chest, the crushing heaviness of a grown man's body on top of a child's. He couldn't breathe, couldn't get his lungs to expand enough for him to draw a good breath. Even if he opened his mouth all he could manage were dry raspy wheezes between sobs. He felt like he was suffocating on dry land.

Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder. It felt like he had been stabbed. He startled badly, roughly pushing whoever it was away and trying to escape back into his corner. He covered his head, the shivering that had subsided a bit coming back full force.

"No, no, no, no, please!" Dirk whimpered, starting to cry harder. "Please... please no!"

"Dirk, you're ok. It's just me, ok? You're safe." The voice sounded muffled, like he was hearing it through a wall. He was too distraught to focus and he couldn't recognize who it was. He drew away from them, pressing himself farther into the corner.

"D-d-don't-- Pl-please, I'm n-not--" Dirk choked out between sobs. He squeezed his eyes shut, choking on his air as he sobbed and tried to take big heaving gasps for breath.

"I'm not going to hurt you," they said gently. "You're ok. They're just flashbacks. They're not gonna hurt you anymore."

Dirk whimpered, gripping his hair in his fists and tugging on it harshly.

"Don't." They leaned over and placed their hands over his fists. Automatically, Dirk let go and straightened his arms, trying to push them away, but instead they just laced their left hand fingers together with Dirk's right. Dirk recoiled his fingers, but he couldn't move his hand all the way away. He started shaking harder and with his other hand tried to pull at their fingers. They didn't let him, instead taking his other hand and placing it over their two hands, hoping he would be able to feel their engagement ring on their ring finger.

Dirk felt it. It wasn't immediate, but after a few seconds he stopped struggling, his fingers touching the ring as he remembered what it was. His other hand tightened its grip.

"It's just me," Jake said softly. "I'm not going to hurt you. No one's going to hurt you. You're safe now, I promise."

Dirk didn't say anything, instead just holding Jake's hand with trembling fingers. "I can..." he whispered. "I can feel them..."

"I know, love. They're just memories. I promise. They can't hurt you now."

Dirk shook his head, but he said nothing else. He gently pulled his hands away, wrapping them around his stomach. He let his head drop, his chin against his chest.  Even from where Jake sat he could see how tense Dirk's entire body was.

"Do you want to go lie down? You might feel better if you sleep," Jake offered gently.

"I don't want to be alone," Dirk said, almost fearfully.

"That's ok. Do you want to stay in here with me?"

Dirk nodded.

"Ok. Do you want to stay here or sit on the couch?"

Dirk peeked his head up a bit and pointed timidly at one of the couches.

"Ok. Do you want me to help you up?"

"No touch," Dirk said, tensing up again.

"Ok. I won't."

Dirk got up stiffly and padded over to the couch. He sat, pulling his knees to his chest again. Jake sat across from him on the ground.

"Why..." Dirk whispered. "Why me? Why did they choose..."

"I don't know, love. I don't think there was a reason why. You were just the first person they found."

Dirk didn't say anything else. He stretched out and rolled over and within a few minutes he was asleep. He was restless, scrunched into a ball and trembling every few seconds. Jake sat with his elbows on his knees, watching him.

He sighed.

Of all the flashbacks and breakdowns Dirk had, these were the ones Jake despised the most. It wasn't that they were the most violent or the scariest, they weren't by a mile, but that they were clearly the most traumatic. During these was when Dirk shook the hardest and curled into the the tightest ball and took the longest to bring back into reality. With the others, at the very least Jake could be gentle with him and remind him of where he was. But with these, he was practically powerless. Dirk got so touch averse that even just brushing against him made him tense up and start trembling again. His voice and the familiarity of it helped, but all the words in the world couldn't make him feel safe and secure, and that was what he needed. Jake ached to reach out and hug him and hold him to his chest and let him know that it was all going to be alright. But he knew that in a state like this he wouldn't be able to differentiate between Jake's touch and the phantom touch of the men who'd abused him. That, he thought, was what he detested Dirk's bastard of a father for the most: robbing him of the ability to comfort the one person he loved the best way he knew how.

Jake moved, crossing his legs and putting his face into his hands. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the surge of anger and hatred pass. There was nothing he could do about him now. That son of a bitch probably didn't even care that he'd damaged his son so badly. If only Jake could make him see, make him understand that Dirk was innocent, that Dirk hadn't done a single cruel thing in his life, that he didn't deserve anything that had happened to him.

If only he could make him understand what he'd done.

Jake ran his hands through his hair, exhaling wearily through his nose. He rested his chin in his palms and watched Dirk again. Dirk tensed up again, a stiff shiver running through him and Jake heard him mumble, "No," fearfully.  Carefully, Jake leaned over and brushed a stray lock of hair behind his ear, taking care not to touch his skin.

If only.

****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter dirk gets the love and support he deserves


	14. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> that last endnote was a lie btw...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :/ 
> 
> um..at least there is backstory that makes this somewhat excusable..
> 
> !!!tw!!! ((graphic)) child abuse

Dirk sat in class, his arms wrapped loosely around his stomach. He had his head dipped down as he stared at his desk, eyes following the grain of the wood. Around him, the rest of his homeroom class was chatting amongst themselves, making loud enough a racket that Dirk felt on edge. He knew he couldn't ask to leave, though, because they had said this was when they were giving out their final report cards. They were the official grades he, and the rest of the senior class, would be graduating with. Everyone else was excited. Dirk wasn't.

 

The teacher walked up and down the rows of seats, robotically placing the grade sheets face down on each student’s desk. The kids at the beginning of the alphabet were already making their respective gasps of joy or groans of anguish. Dirk looked over at the teacher anxiously as she got to the ‘R’ students. There were only a handful and she was already making her way down Dirk's row within a few minutes. Dirk turned to face back around, his stomach turning nervously.

 

“Shit,” a kid a few seats away from him muttered. To his friend, he asked, “Can a college kick you out if you fail a class? Even if you're already been accepted?”

 

“Maybe. I dunno.” The kid's friend paused as she got her report card and looked it over. “I think some colleges can.”

 

“Fuck,” the first kid hissed under his breath.

 

Dirk swallowed hard. College. Of course. That was what the entire year had practically been: preparing for college. Writing up essays, filling out applications, getting financial aid, all that. Dirk had tried to ignore it all (it was a sore spot in the first place, not to mention how stressful it was to think about) but eventually he ended up sitting in front of his counselor halfway through the first semester as she spewed off fact after fact about how autistic kids like him could “prosper” and “achieve just as much as their peers” in the right “supportive” college environment. He didn't say anything to her. He didn't tell her about all the blank spots on his applications, or how he'd only managed to find two or three schools before he had to stop researching because the stress of it was making him nauseous, or how he'd submitted one of the applications a day late and never submitted the other two at all. It was better that way.

 

The teacher reached his desk. Dirk saw her eyes flick across his paper for a split second before she placed it on his desk. She met his eyes and her brow furrowed just a tiny bit and then she was moving on to the next student. Dirk looked at his paper. Carefully, he picked it up with both hands and turned it over slowly.

 

Almost all Fs. He had a D+ in one class (Physics) but everything else had a heavy, dark ‘F’ staring at him in the semester 2 column. His stomach turned. He shouldn't have been surprised. He hadn't been able to study for any of his finals and all throughout the year he'd missed assignment after assignment and failed test after test after test. It wasn't necessarily that he didn't understand the material (especially in Physics, where he finished reading the textbook a full two weeks before the rest of the class) but rather that he couldn't handle all the homework and the projects and the papers and the studying, especially with 5 classes all at once. He tried to keep up at the beginning, just like he'd done for freshman, sophomore, and junior year, but he still had an anxiety attack on an almost weekly basis and he still got so severely behind on his assignments that before winter break he already had about 20 missing assignments in each class.

 

Dirk looked away, his cheeks burning dully, and he put his report card into his backpack.he slid his arms around his stomach again, closing his eyes and rocking back and forth a little bit to keep himself calm. 10 minutes later, the bell rang shrilly and everyone sprang from their seats, rushing and clamoring to get out the door and spend their first moments outside as high school graduates. Dirk got up slowly, moving stiffly. By the time he had his things the room was nearly empty. The hallway was packed with people clearing out their lockers for the summer. Dirk didn't have anything in his locker. He'd never used it once in the four years he was there. He was one of the first people on the bus. He sat almost at the back, next to the window. He put his backpack on his lap, liking the way it weighed on his legs, and put on his headphones. The bus slowly filled with people, getting louder at the same time, making him close his eyes and press himself into the back of his seat, almost trying to disappear. When the bus started moving, everyone cheered. Except for Dirk. 

 

Dirk’s stop was the fifth from the end. He'd memorized it long ago so he didn't have to really pay attention to outside so long as he counted when the bus pulled to the stop. When he got off, the seats were nearly all empty, save for a handful of people staring down at their phones or listening to music. He got off, grimacing a little bit at the June heat. He curled his fingers around one of the straps of his backpack, digging his fingers into the padding when he thought of what his father was going to do. He didn't really care about grades, but he knew good grades meant Dirk going off to college and finally getting out of his hair. He'd already suffered enough beatings after he bringing home his midterms to know this was going to be bad.

 

When Dirk got home, the house was empty. As usual. There wasn't much to eat, and he wasn't very hungry either, so he just went up to his room. Dave’s part of the room was vacant and gathering dust, just as it had been for the past four years. Dirk remembered almost begging Dave not to leave after he told him he'd been accepted to a university a few hours away. Dave had always gotten much better grades than Dirk, because he had set his eyes on college as a way out when he was still just a kid. He remembered all the studying he did, and he remembered being confused as to how it all came so easily to him. But despite all Dirk's begging and pleading, Dave left on his own, leaving whatever he couldn't carry in his beaten up old hatchback. And suddenly, Dirk was alone with his father for the first time in 14 years.

 

Dirk sat down on his own bed, setting his backpack on the ground. He covered his face with his hands, biting his lip hard to keep from crying. He was sad, yes, but for the most part he was terrified. His dad already hated him so much for having to raise him just these 18 years. How would he react when Dirk told him he wasn't even leaving home like you're supposed to? How would he react to being told he had to keep taking care of him for the foreseeable future? What would he do? Dirk had never made him that angry before. He knew it probably wasn't likely but... what if he got so mad that he finally snapped? Hit him just a little too hard or strangle him just a little too long, and then that was it?

 

Dirk curled in on himself, wrapping his arms around his stomach. He was trembling. He had about 4 hours to figure out what to do. He pulled out his report card and stared at it for a bit, the ugly black letters still staring back at him. He could destroy it. But his dad would still ask about it eventually, and it would be about a million times worse if he only found out in the fall when he didn't leave like Dave had. There was no way to sugar coat it (he was so afraid of his dad anyways he didn't think he could even come up with a script for that without immediately forgetting it). There was nothing he could do but just tell him the truth and hope he didn't hurt him too badly.

 

For the rest of the afternoon, Dirk paced anxiously around the house, too restless to sit and do anything. At 6, when he noticed the time, he was hit with a wave of nausea and he had to rush to the bathroom. Nothing came up (he hadn't eaten enough that day) but he sat there dry heaving for 10 minutes. When he finally stopped, he was covered in cold sweat and shivering, and his throat burned with stomach acid. 

 

He had half an hour.

 

Dirk was in his room, rubbing his head at the beginnings of a headache, when he heard the front door slam. Fear gripped him, freezing him in place. For a few terrifying seconds, he couldn't breathe or move. He started trembling again. Carefully, he stood up and picked up his report card. He trudged outside and down the stairs, where his father was waiting in the dining room. His face was hard and mean, as usual, and when he looked over at Dirk his yellow eyes narrowed and he scowled.

 

“The school called me,” he said, his voice gravelly and rough. “Said you got your grades.”

 

Dirk nodded silently.

 

“Well? You gonna give them here or you just gonna stand there like a retard?”

 

Dirk flinched a bit and stepped towards him, holding out the paper. His father snatched it from him. Dirk kept his head down, his heart beating hard in his chest. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his father shift. He closed his eyes, bracing for the impact.

 

When his father slapped him, his head whipped to the side and he gasped. It stung fiercely, and he brought his hands up to cup his cheek, half worried it was bleeding.

 

“What the fuck is this?” his father asked, his voice steady yet livid at the same time.

 

“I'm sorry,” Dirk whimpered.

 

“No, you're not. If you were  _ sorry,  _ you would've learned the last time you brought home shit like this.” He looked down at at the paper again and scoffed sarcastically. “Or maybe that's your problem, you never fucking learn anything.”

 

“I'm sorry, I just-- it never--” Dirk tried to say.

 

“I don't wanna fucking hear it. You knew the consequences, and yet you still pulled this shit. You really think you're getting into  _ college _ with grades like this?”

 

Dirk froze. He tightened his grip against his cheek, looking at the ground again. “I... didn't...” 

 

“What?” his father asked harshly.

 

“I didn't... get into...” Dirk squeezed his eyes shut, unable to finish the sentence.

 

His father was silent. There was shifting as he moved and then Dirk heard him mutter, “I can't fucking believe this.”

 

“I'm sorry,” Dirk whispered again.

 

“Would you quit  _ fucking saying that?! _ ” his dad screamed. Dirk flinched, tears welling up in his eyes.

 

His father sighed sharply and let out a loud sarcastic laugh. “18 years... was that not enough for you? Ruining 18 years of my goddamn life just wasn't enough?”

 

Dirk didn't reply. A single tear slid down his face and fell from the tip of his nose.

 

“Come here.” His father grabbed his wrist, tugging him harshly towards the stairs. Dirk started and automatically pulled back from him.

 

“No, please,” he said, his voice shaking.

 

“You don't get to fucking say anything. You knew the goddamn consequences.”

 

“Please-- I'm sorr--”

 

“No you're  _ fucking not _ ,” he growled, throwing him into the empty guest bedroom. Dirk barely caught himself before he fell and he nearly hit the wall. “If you were  _ actually _ sorry, you wouldn't have done this shit in the first place.” His father crossed the room in two strides and smacked him again, hard enough that he cried out and fell to the ground, gripping his cheek and shaking. He tried to get up, but his father kicked him in the stomach as he did. He fell back down, groaning and wrapping his arms around his abdomen. His dad kicked him again and he gagged, a small bit of saliva and stomach acid coming into his mouth.

 

The beating continued for what seemed like hours, his father barely pausing or speaking between each hit. It had been a mix of everything: punching, slapping, kicking. He even strangled him for a few minutes, something he tended to only do when he was especially livid. Dirk didn't have time to catch his breath like he usually did and by the time his father finally stopped for good, he was choking and gasping for air. He was covered in bruises and scrapes, and the elbow he'd accidentally (or was it thrown on purpose?) took to the face had made his nose start bleeding, making him worry it was broken. His mouth was full of blood as well, probably because he'd bitten his tongue at some point. He was sobbing hard, a mix of blood and tears smeared all over his face. His father stood over him, scowling.

 

“Maybe I ought to just kill you now,” he muttered to himself. “Put you out of your misery for good. Finally get you out of my hair.”

 

Dirk heard him and tried to scramble to his feet, instead only able to drag himself a few feet away and hold his hands out in a feeble attempt to protect himself. He shook his head furiously, unable to speak.

 

His father scoffed quietly. He just shook his head at Dirk and then he left, slamming the door behind him. The room was almost dark, lit only by the orange light coming in through the window. Dirk finally relaxed his tense body, collapsing in a heap on the ground. He was still breathing heavily, his entire body aching sharply. He tried to move, but he was simply too exhausted. He instead curled into a trembling ball, gripping his throbbing head as he cried. 

 

He didn't want this. He didn't want to be here, suffering like this, living a life this horrible. He didn't want to die, he didn't think, rather he just didn't want to exist like this anymore. He just wanted to be free. He wanted to be happy. He didn't care how, he just... he wanted to be out.

 

Eventually, long after the sun had gone down, Dirk gathered the strength to sit up slowly. He groaned softly, holding his bruised stomach. He managed to get to his feet, his body screaming in pain the entire time, and limp from the room. Everything started spinning wildly when he stood and he had to keep one hand against the wall so he didn't pass out. Leaning on the wall for support, he made his way back to his room, biting his lip to keep from crying from the pain. Every so often he would hear the house creak and freeze, terrified of it being his father coming back to finish him off. When he finally did reach his door, fresh tears were streaming down his cheeks. He got inside and closed the door behind him, leaning back against it and closing his eyes in relief. Slowly, he slid to the ground, bringing his knees to his chest and gripping his head. He started sobbing again, loud, fat tears that left him out of breath and shivering.

 

He wanted out.

  
*****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha remember how they are engaged ??? yes that whole,, thing is going to happen eventually do not worry...


	15. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey..
> 
> so.
> 
> that last endnote...was a lie...
> 
> i know this seems bad..but consider...this is my goddamn magnum opus this took me a fuckin week some shit..goddamn 6000+ words ?? cmon dude u gotta gimme at least a little credit
> 
> anyways this is part of the chapter 11 timeline and so thusly...
> 
> !!!tw!!! suicide/graphic self harm
> 
> ((btw this aint finished so expect either updates to this chapter or another followup chapter soon ;0))

Red.

 

Everything was red; a deep thick crimson that swallowed all the light that touched it.

 

He'd never seen this much in any one place. It was everywhere: the walls, the floors, the ceilings he thought. Staining him, staining his skin. Marking him. Changing him.

 

Dirk gasped softly, his mouth lying open and slack as he tried to draw in a good breath. He'd been struggling for the past few minutes, but as time passed it just seemed to get harder and harder, as if there simply weren't enough air available. He was breathing slower than he had been a while ago as well. His skin, what of it he could still feel, felt cold and he thought that if he had had more energy he would've been shivering.

 

He blinked slowly, eyes barely open. He kept nodding off and his head felt distinctly like it was spinning, even though he was lying on the ground. His cheek was pressed against the tile floor. He could feel something warm and wet beneath it, and he could taste a bit of it too.

 

His lips started to try to mouth “Jake.” No sound came out. He was trying to think. His brain wasn't working correctly. Everything was just in fragments now. _Door. Lock. Work. Where? Hot. Slick. Blood. Cold._

 

The slowly growing pool of blood surrounding him had long since soaked into his shirt. He didn't like the way it felt. He didn't have the strength to move. Everything from his forearms down was numb. The inch deep furrows in both his wrists were still bleeding, he thought. Blood had spurted across the counter when he hit the two veins he'd so meticulously researched and mapped out on his own skin. Some of it even hit the mirror. That had scared him. He'd never gone that deep before. But after watching the pulsating stream of blood for a few minutes, he knew it wasn't going to be enough to put him in any kind of real trouble.

 

That was why he went deeper. Until he couldn't feel his fingers.

 

That was why he did the same on his other arm.

 

He collapsed after five minutes of watching his blood be pumped out of his body and sprayed all over the sink and the counter. When he fell, the wounds kept bleeding, running into the grooves of the tiles and soaking into the bath mat in front of the cabinet. He couldn't move. His whole body felt... vague, almost. As if it weren't really there. As if his head wasn't connected to the rest of him, as if all the nerves in his body were slowly going offline all together. As if...

 

As if he was dying.

 

Dirk could only manage a few more painstakingly slow breaths before his eyes fell shut. He didn't open them again.

 

***

 

When Jake came home, the house was silent. Jake didn't think this was odd, Dirk wasn't much of a loud person, but when he walked into the dining room, Dirk was nowhere to be found. His computer wasn't there, nor was Lil Hal. That was odd. Even if Dirk ever went for a walk or took a nap, he'd at least have spent some time working on his laptop. He always did.

 

“Dirk?” Jake called, setting his bag down slowly, looking around warily. No response. The backdoor was closed and locked. Dirk would've left it open if he was outside; he always did. The kitchen was as spotless as it had been that morning, even though Jake could've sworn he reminded Dirk to eat something at lunch. Down the hallway, the bedroom door was closed, left ajar only by a few inches. Dirk didn't usually take naps at this time.

 

“Dirk? Are you in...” Jake trailed off when he saw that the bed was empty. He furrowed his eyebrows. He knew he probably shouldn't have been, but deep down inside, something in him started getting nervous. Dirk had been ok this morning, right? He'd seemed alright. Alright enough that he didn't protest when Jake left for work. Or had he been lying?

 

“Stop,” Jake said to himself, rubbing at his temple. _He's fine. He's always fine. You're just jumping to conclusions again._

 

He looked up, and noticed the bathroom door was closed. The light was on, leaking through the crack under the door. Jake stopped. A brief bit of fear had pierced through him as he remembered all the times he'd opened that door only to find Dirk hunched over the sink again, cutting into his arm. But Dirk had been doing ok for a while now. He'd been better, but the last time Jake caught him had been almost a month ago.

 

But it was the only place he hadn't checked yet.

 

Jake approached the door. Gently, he placed his palm flat against it. He closed his eyes for a moment and sighed before he took the doorknob into his hand and turned it.

 

The door wasn't locked this time. Dirk didn't gasp out loud like he usually did. Dirk didn't do anything. He couldn't have.

 

He was lying on the ground. He had collapsed, from the looks of it. His limbs were placed too awkwardly for him to have voluntarily lain down. He wasn't moving. He wasn't breathing. There was a pool of blood surrounding his upper body, soaking his shirt and staining his skin and his hair and the floor tiles deep crimson red. There was blood on the counter as well, all over, not just in the sink. There were a handful of smears on the mirror.

 

The air was cold. It stank of metal and death. Jake's right hand started shaking.

 

“Oh God,” Jake whispered. He let go of the door, taking a few steps back. “Oh God.” He covered his mouth, half to keep from vomiting, and shook his head slowly. “No... Please...” After a few frozen moments, Jake let out a stiff, fearful sob. “Please...”

 

He approached Dirk, his movements slow and trembling. When he got closer, the smell of blood got stronger and he could see the twin gashes in his wrists, deep enough that they were lined with yellow bubbles of fat. He fell to his knees, and ever so gently picked up Dirk’s limp form. His skin was freezing cold, much colder than Jake had ever felt it before. He was covered in so much blood he was almost slick. Jake hugged him to his chest, wrapping his arms around him. All of a sudden, he was clinging to him, so hard he feared he might break him, but too terrified to care. He gripped the back of his blood soaked shirt with shaking fists, pressing his face into Dirk’s neck.

 

“No...” Jake whispered. “No, no, no, no, please--” He stopped, squeezing his eyes shut as tears welled up and immediately rolled down his cheeks, hi grip on his shirt tightening. “What have you done?” Jake started crying harder, gasping for air and trembling. “Oh, God, what have you done?”

 

Jake moved to press his face into Dirk's shoulder, and suddenly he heard a distant thump. Jake pulled away a bit, his breath catching in his throat. He put his ear back to Dirk's chest, and sure enough he could hear his heartbeat. It was quiet and weak, but it was there.

 

“You-- Shit,” Jake breathed. “Oh, shit.” Jake gently set him down and scrambled to the dining room, fishing frantically through his bag for his phone. He still had time. He could still save him. His hands were still covered in Dirk's blood. Jake didn't care.

 

“Hello?”

 

“I-- M-my fiancé's-- I found him, and he's unconscious and he's bleeding and I can feel his heartbeat but I don't know if h-he's...” Jake stopped, unable to bring himself to say the word. He closed his eyes for a moment, another tear rolling down his cheek. “I don't know what to do.”

 

The responder told him to check if he was breathing first and then try and stem the blood as best as he could until the ambulance arrived. Jake obeyed, stifling another sob when he was the mess again. He picked up Dirk, whose head slumped to the side like a ragdoll’s, and put his ear next to his mouth, just like the responder had told him to. Dirk was just barely breathing, nearly inaudible rasps, but that was enough. He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around what looked like the deeper of Dirk's two cuts, squeezing it as hard as he could.

 

“You're gonna be ok,” Jake whispered, half to Dirk and half to himself. “You're gonna be ok. You're...” Jake let out another cry, holding Dirk close to him and pressing their foreheads together. “Oh, love, what have you done?”

 

A few minutes later, Jake heard the sirens of the ambulance approach the house. He wanted to get up and go to them, but he couldn't bear to let go of Dirk. Instead, he shouted for them once he heard them throw open the front door. He started trembling as they came into the bathroom. He could only imagine what he must've looked like to them. One of the EMTs set down a bag of supplies while the other approached Jake and gently took Dirk from him.

 

“He's not...” Jake whispered as he watched them lay him down and start working on him. “Is he...”

 

“He's lost a lot of blood,” one of the EMTs murmured.

 

“Shit.” Jake put his face in his hands. If only he'd come home sooner. If only he'd not gone to work in the first place. Maybe then...

 

The EMTs loaded Dirk onto a stretcher (he could only imagine how much Dirk would've hated it if he'd been awake) and carried him out to the ambulance. Jake rode with them in the back, trying to make himself as small as possible in the cramped space so the EMTs would have room to stabilize him. Jake still felt sick, and all of a sudden it kind of felt like he was watching a movie of someone else's life. This wasn't his, he thought distantly. Not to _his_ fiancé. Not in _his_ life. Not in a million years. It was always somebody else. Never him.

 

Jake watched the EMT clamp her hand down on the cut he hadn't touched himself.

 

It was never him.

 

When they got to the hospital, there was a flurry of doctors and nurses waiting to ascend onto him the moment they pulled up to the ER. They rushed him inside and Jake followed, lost and unsure what to do. They took him into one of trauma bays. There was so much motion around Dirk that he could barely see him. He heard slow beeping, like a heart monitor. A nurse walked by and asked him who he was.

 

“I'm...” Jake said softly. He pointed at Dirk. “I’m his fiancé.”

 

“Oh.” She looked from him to Dirk and then gestured for him to follow her. “Here, why don't you come with me? We have some forms you'll need to fill out,” she said gently.

 

“I don't--”

 

“He's going to be ok. This'll only take a few minutes, I promise, and then you can come back and stay with him. Is that alright?”

 

Jake looked at Dirk again, curling his hands into loose fists and knitting his eyebrows together with worry. He didn't look like he was in very grave danger. He sighed to himself and nodded, letting the nurse lead him over to a set of chairs where he filled out sheet after sheet after sheet of insurance forms. The whole time, he kept glancing over at where he knew Dirk was, watching to see if there was any sudden commotion to suggest he was in trouble. Thankfully, there was none for the ten minutes he was signing the papers. When he was done, before going back to Dirk, he stepped outside to call Jane and Roxy.

 

“Hello?” It was Jane.

 

“Hey,” he said softly.

 

“Oh, hi, Jake! What's up? It's been a little while since we last talked. What's new?”

 

Jake didn't say anything. He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand.

 

“Jake?” asked Jane, a small amount of worry in her voice. “Is everything ok?”

 

Jake shook his head and inhaled softly. “Dirk’s in the hospital. He tried to... kill himself.”

 

There was silence on Jane's end for a few seconds, and then Jake heard her whisper, “Oh, god.”

 

“We're at the ER now. He doesn't... He wasn't... when I found him--” Jake stopped again, wearily rubbing his face. “I don't know how bad it is.”

 

“Oh.” Jane's voice sounded small and scared. “Um... Don't-- I'll go tell Roxy, and we’ll be over in a little while, ok?”

 

“Alright.”

 

“It's gonna be ok, Jake. I promise.”

 

“Mm hmm,” Jake murmured. He hung up and slid his phone back into his pocket. He looked to the side and sighed softly. He caught sight of himself in the glass of the door of the ER. His shirt was smeared and splattered with Dirk’s blood and his hands were tinted red. This still didn't feel real to him. He knew it was, but... it still felt wrong.

 

Jake went back inside.

 

He asked one of the nurses where he was and she pointed him to one of the beds, sectioned off by light blue curtains. When he pushed them back, he found Dirk in bed, dressed in a hospital gown and asleep. The heart monitor he was hooked up to was beeping steadily, faster than he'd heard in the bathroom. He was attached to two IVs, one clear and the other red. Both his wrists were wrapped in thick white bandaging. His hands and arms were still stained red.

 

Jake's chest ached a bit when he saw him. He looked so... wrong there. He didn't belong in a place this cold and serious. He belonged somewhere warm and soft and loving. Not here.

 

Jake pulled up one of the chairs and sat beside Dirk's bed. Gently, he picked up his hand, holding it so tightly he was afraid he'd hurt him. His skin was warmer than it had been in the bathroom.

 

Jake raised Dirk's hand to his lips, resting them against the back of his hand. He closed his eyes. A tear rolled down his cheek.

 

“Oh, what have you done, love?”

 

***

 

After a little while, they moved Dirk up to the ICU. Jake stood with the nurses in the elevator, holding tightly onto the bag of Dirk's things. They'd had to cut off his clothes, but his phone and the necklace with his engagement ring on it were fine. Jake had put it around his own neck, only partially for safekeeping, and every so often he reached up to touch it, running his finger along the engraving on the inside.

 

The walls of Dirk's room were a pale powder blue, almost white. There was a window looking over the parking lot. The air was cold and dry and it reeked of bleach. Dirk would've hated it if he'd been awake. Jake sat beside him again, running his thumb in slow circles on the back of his hand. His eyes fell onto his bandages. They went from just under his hands to about a third up his forearm, covering all but a few of his old scars. One or two still had bits of peeling scabs on them. Over the years, Jake had practically memorized where each of them, which was good since he could easily tell when new ones appeared. But the fact that he could, that he knew exactly where his fiancé had made himself bleed each time, was somewhat sickening to him.

 

Jake gently intertwined their fingers, shifting his gaze to Dirk's other arm. He didn't have as many on his right arm, since he tended to cut with his right hand, but of the few that were there lay the only other one he'd ever done that was bad enough to need stitches. It looked dwarfed compared to what Jake had seen in the bathroom, but it still sent a chill down his spine. It had faded a bit over the years, but you could still see the dots alongside it where each suture had gone into his skin. Sometimes, if Dirk was daydreaming or something of the like, he would absentmindedly run his finger down the length of it. Maybe it was a nervous habit. Jake never asked him about it. Distantly he wondered what these new scars would look like once they healed. Dirk would hate them too he was sure.

 

In his pocket, Jake's phone buzzed. Jane and Roxy were here. He looked back up at Dirk for a moment. His hair was a mess and part of it was matted against his neck, which was tinted red along with his cheek. The only indication that he was still alive was the way his eyelids would twitch ever so slightly. Slowly, Jake let go of his hand and stood to go find the other two.

 

They were sitting in waiting room of the ICU. They were holding hands tightly, and when Roxy noticed him he saw that her eyes were red.

 

“How is he?” Jane asked, standing as he approached, her eyebrows knit together with worry.

 

“He's... He's stable,” Jake said. “He's still unconscious but he's...” He stopped talking, a lump suddenly forming in his throat. He put his face into his hands again, trying and failing to fight back his tears.

 

Jane stepped towards him, wrapping her arms around him gently as he cried. “Oh, sweetie,” she whispered.

 

Jake only cried for a few minutes before he pulled himself together, sniffling and wiping his eyes.

 

“Can... we see him?” Roxy asked quietly, one of her hands resting on her stomach, the way she did when she was scared.

 

Jake nodded. “Yeah. I think so.”

 

Jake led them back to Dirk's room, where he stood beside them as Roxy started shivering, so much so that Jane had to hold her steady. Tears ran down her cheeks, smudging her carefully done makeup a bit. She had one of her hands covering her mouth while with the other she gripped Jane's hand so hard her knuckles were white.

 

“He's... H-he's gonna be ok, right?” Roxy whispered, her voice trembling just as much as she was.

 

“I think so.” Jake reached over to brush a lock of hair from Dirk's eyes. As he did, he reached up to touch Dirk's ring again. “But we won't know until he wakes up.”

 

Roxy didn't do anything. Her eyes were still glued onto Dirk, fear and pain evident in them. She sniffled softly and wiped at her eyes. “I'm...”

 

“Are you ok?” Jane asked her gently, placing her hand on her arm. “Would you like a minute with him, just by yourself?”

 

She nodded slowly, touching Dirk's arm lightly. Jake and Jane filed from the room and closed the door so that they could have their privacy. Roxy had always been so close to Dirk, 3rd only to Dave and Jake. She loved him so dearly; seeing him like this had to have been horrible.

 

“How are you holding up?” Jane asked, giving Jake a small smile.

 

“I don't know. I'm just...” He trailed off. He looked over at the door. “The doctors keep telling me he's going to be fine but I don't know if...”

 

“At least he's stable now,” Jane offered.

 

“I know, and I should be happier, but...” He closed his eyes and shook his head gently. “When I found him, I thought he was... He was just lying there in this giant pool of blood and he wasn't moving. I didn't know any better.”

 

“Oh, Jake,” Jane said sadly.

 

“He was so cold when I held him,” Jake whispered. He took in a soft shuddering breath. He slicked a hand back over his hair, bringing it back and resting his fingers against his mouth.as he remembered. How still his chest had been. How shiny his blood was. How slow and feeble his heartbeat had been.

 

“He’s gonna be ok,” Jane said. She put her hand on his arm and gave him an apologetic smile. “I know him. He can be strong when he wants to.”

 

Just then, the door creaked and Roxy stepped outside, wiping tears from her cheeks. She looked calmer than she had earlier, still noticeably upset and distressed, but overall settled a bit. She looked over at the two of them and sniffled softly.

 

“Do you know when he might wake up?” she asked shyly.

 

“No. He... lost a lot of blood, so his body’s still trying to get back to normal. It just depends on how long that takes,” Jake said. He looked back at the door, where he could faintly hear the beeping of the heart monitor. Softly, he mumbled, “That’s what they told me.”

 

Roxy nodded, not saying anything. She walked over to Jane and leaned her head on her shoulder, closing her eyes. From that angle, with her makeup nearly all wiped away, you could see the grey under her eyes and how tired she looked overall. Jane gave her a kiss on the forehead, reaching up to wrap her arm around Roxy’s shoulders. As Jake watched them, his chest started to feel tight. He turned and went back into the room, leaving the two of them. He stifled a soft whimper when he saw Dirk again, the shock of seeing him like this still painful. He sat in his same seat as before and leaned forward to the edge of the bed. He gently took Dirk’s hand, this time taking care not to crush it.

 

***

 

Jane and Roxy stayed as late as they could, bouncing between going to the food court and staying in Dirk’s room just to watch him. Jake hardly moved once, except for the time when Roxy managed to drag him down there at 10:30pm just so he’d have at least something in his system. Jake ate just to satisfy her, but he didn't feel hungry. He just kept thinking about Dirk and when he'd wake up and what he'd be like when he woke up. Would he be scared? He didn't usually like waking up in places he didn't recognize. Or... would he be mad? It was unlikely, yes, but what if Dirk hated him for calling 911? For not letting him die? For making him have to keep being miserable? He hadn't even left a note. Jake still had no idea why he did it.

 

Jake sighed softly. He was back in Dirk's room, leaning forward on the couch with his elbows on his knees. It was 11:30. He looked over at Dirk again. He looked so much like a child the way he was tucked into the bed. Even from here, Jake could see the slow rise and fall of his chest, and the beep of the heart monitor was still going. It was comforting.

 

Roxy walked into the room just then. She looked at Dirk for a few moments and then came and sat next to Jake.

 

“It's getting a little late,” she said. “I think we're gonna start heading out soon. Jane's really tired.”

 

“Alright. You're probably not gonna miss much; he's probably not waking up until morning.”

 

“What about you?”

 

“Hmm? Oh, I was... just planning to spend the night.”

 

“You should go home,” Roxy said. “Get cleaned up some. I mean, I know both of you need new clothes, so there's that--”

 

“The mess is still there,” Jake murmured.

 

Roxy blinked at Jake. She looked away.  “Yeah. That's right.”

 

“I just... I don't want to leave him. Not now. Not like this.”

 

Roxy sighed softly. “Ok.”

 

“The... The front door’s still open, I think. You could... Er, could you... pick something up?” Jake asked quietly.

 

“Of course.” Roxy stood, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. “Not that I know either of your sense of style,” she joked.

 

Jake cracked a small smile. “That's fine. Anything will do.”

 

Roxy bent down to hug him, resting her head on his shoulder. “He's gonna be just fine.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

She straightened up and gave him a small wave before she left, leaving him and Dirk alone. Jake stood, moving to the chair beside the bed and took Dirk's hand again. Slowly, he rubbed small circles on the back with his thumb.

 

“Oh, love,” he said softly. “I wish you...” He closed his eyes, bringing Dirk's hand to his lips. “I wish you had told me what was wrong. I could've... we could've done something before it got this far. I could've...” Jake stopped, clasping Dirk's hand in both of his. “I love you,” he whispered. “I love you so, so much. I don't want to see you here, like this. I... I want you at home with me.”

 

Jake was quiet for a few moments. The clock ticked. The heart monitor beeped. Jake exhaled softly.

 

“You're gonna be ok,” he whispered.

 

Around 12:30, Jake started yawning and his eyes started getting heavy. He'd been there for 8 and a half hours now, and the fatigue he'd been fighting off was starting to catch up to him. At 12:40 he thought someone came into the room and then left, but he was too out of it to tell who it was. A few minutes later, he stood up and went over to give Dirk a kiss on the forehead.

 

“Goodnight, love,” he murmured. He went back over to the couch, putting his glasses on the arm, and within ten minutes he was asleep.

 

When he woke up, bright morning light was streaming in through the window, making the parts of the powder blue walls that it touched blindingly bright. Jake squinted, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and reaching over to put on his glasses. Dirk was still asleep. Jake stood up, pausing to stretch his stiff limbs, and hooked his hands behind his neck. As he looked around the room, he noticed there was a drawstring bag beside the couch that he hadn't seen before. When he opened it, he found there were clean clothes inside. It must've been Roxy who dropped it off last night.

 

Jake went into the bathroom to change into the new clothes. He set Dirk's clothes on the counter. Jake smoothed down the front of his shirt. He felt better now, at the very least. Getting some rest and fresh clothes had refreshed him some. He went back into the room, stopping to give Dirk another kiss on the forehead, and then left in search of breakfast. He brought it back to the room, where he ate and watched Dirk from the couch. The whole of it still felt bizarre to him, like they were in some alternate universe. He wasn't used to waking up without Dirk pressed up against him.

 

Jake spent most of the morning sitting next to Dirk, counting his heartbeat and watching him breath. A nurse came in around 9 to change his bandages. Dirk's cuts had been cleaned and neatly stitched close and they looked much better than they had before. They were still an angry red and there were a few tiny beads of blood that bubbled up around each sutures every time the nurse wiped her cotton ball over them, but at least they were closed. He watched her carefully rewrap them, wrapping the gauze snuggly around Dirk's wrists.

 

“Thank you,” Jake said when she had finished.

 

The nurse smiled. “It's no problem.”

 

When she left, Jake gently touched Dirk's ring. He rolled it between his fingers and then brought it to his lips. He stood and brushed back a bit of his hair that had fallen in front of his eyes. He stepped outside so that he could make a few phone calls. First, he called into work, saying he wouldn't be coming in. When the person on the line asked why, he told them Dirk was sick. It wasn't technically wrong.

 

Jake hung up and brought his phone down from his ear. He exhaled softly, and pressed on Dave’s contact.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Hey,” Jake mumbled.

 

“Oh. Hey, Jake. What's up?” Dave asked.

 

Jake closed his eyes. “It's... Dirk is...”

 

“What's wrong? What happened to him?” Suddenly he sounded urgent and a little bit nervous. “Is he ok?”

 

Jake shook his head. “He... tried to kill himself. We're-- He's in the hospital right now.”

 

Dave was quiet for a few moments and then softly muttered, “Shit.”

 

“He's asleep now, but he's ok. I just thought you'd want to know.”

 

“Fuck,” Dave hissed under his breath. He sighed softly. “No, it's-- It's good that you told me. I just...”

 

“I think he'd be happy to see you,” Jake said gently.

 

“Yeah... Yeah, I haven't been back home in a little while anyways.” Dave sniffled softly. “I, um, I can probably get down there in a couple days, see if I can't get some time off.”

 

“That'd be good.”

 

“Ok. Ok.” There was a bit of shuffling on Dave’s end. “Did... Do you know why he did it? Did he have a note?”

 

“No.”

 

“God. Why doesn't he--” Dave stopped himself. He sighed again. “I just... I should go. I'll call before I get there.”

 

“Alright.”

 

“Bye.”

 

Jake mumbled a soft bye and then hung up. He turned off his phone and held it in both of his hands. He put it back into his pocket and went back to Dirk's room.

 

When he got there, Dirk had moved.

 

Jake stopped when he stepped into the room. Dirk's back was facing him and he was curled into a ball. As he stood there, Jake could see his body shivering and him breathing heavily. The door quietly shut behind him. Dirk flinched at the sound. Several seconds of silence hung in the air.

 

“Dirk,” Jake said softly.

 

Dirk shifted. He sat up and shyly looked towards Jake. His face was scared and pale and there were tear tracks on his cheeks. He had been panting softly but he stopped. His eyes widened a bit. A second later his eyebrows knit together and his lip started quivering and he started sobbing again.

 

Jake rushed over to him, hugging him tightly. He held him to his chest, one hand on his shoulder and the other on the back of his head. He pressed his face into his hair, fighting back tears of his own.

 

“You're ok, baby,” he gasped, brushing back Dirk's hair. “It's ok. I'm here. You're ok. You're ok.”

 

Dirk didn't say anything back. He was gasping loudly for air between sobs and gripping the back of Jake's shirt in his fists. He was shaking so hard Jake thought he might break.

 

Jake moved to press his face into Dirk's neck, tears welling up in his closed eyes and rolling down his cheeks. “It's ok. Everything's ok now. I'm right here, love. I'm right here.”

 

Dirk kept gasping and struggling to breathe. He made a few unintelligible vowel sounds, like he was trying to speak. He managed to choke out the “j” in “Jake” and then started crying harder.

 

“Shh, shh, it's ok, love. You don't have to talk. You just...” Jake stopped, another wave of tears hitting him as well. “Oh, God.” He pulled back to cup both sides of Dirk's face in his hands. “I love you. I love you so much.” He hugged Dirk again, pressing his face into his hair and rocking him a bit to calm him down. “You're ok, love. You're ok now. I've got you.”

 

Gradually, Dirk's tears slowed and he calmed down, his trembling subsiding a bit and his breathing returning to normal. He had his face pressed into Jake's chest, breathing heavily yet in time with him, his fists still gripping his shirt. Every so often, he would son and gasp quietly.

 

“You're ok,” Jake murmured. “You're fine. Everything's just fine.”

 

Behind them, the door opened as a nurse walked in. Jake straightened up and Dirk scooted back away from her, whimpering fearfully.

 

“He's awake,” she said, surprise in her voice. To Jake she asked, “How long has he been...?”

 

“Just a little while. Ten minutes, maybe.”

 

She nodded. “Good. That's very good.” She turned her attention over to Dirk and gave him a small smile. She stepped towards his bed. “Here, let me just...”

 

Dirk whimpered and moved away from her, reaching out and wrapping his arms around Jake's hips. He was shaking a little now and his eyes looked afraid and distrusting.

 

“It's ok,” Jake reassured him. “She's just gonna look at some stuff. She's not going to hurt you.”

 

Dirk just stared at the nurse. He hugged Jake tighter.

 

“I only need to look at a few things,” the nurse said gently. “It's not gonna hurt.”

 

She took a few more steps towards them. Dirk pressed himself into Jake. The nurse went to the equipment he was connected to and copied down the numbers.

 

“This is good. His vitals all look good, so you can probably go home within an hour or two,” the nurse said to Jake.

 

“Oh, good.”

 

“I'll see if I can't get a doctor to give you the official ok.”

 

She left, and Dirk relaxed just a tiny bit. He still had his face pressed into Jake's stomach and his arms wrapped around his waist, but his body felt less tense.

 

“You're ok, love,” Jake murmured, brushing back his hair. He leaned down to give him a kiss on the top of the head. “You're ok.”

 

***

 

As they waited for a doctor to clear Dirk for discharge, Jake went back and sat in his chair by Dirk's bed (he started whining and whimpering when he sat on the couch because it was too far away). Out of the corner of his eye, Jake noticed Dirk staring down at his lap. When he looked fully at him he saw he was actually staring at his wrists, lying limp in his crossed legs, still wrapped in white gauze. Did he remember what happened? He had to have, Jake thought.

 

Dirk lightly brushed his fingers over the gauze and then looked up. He reached out for Jake, whining softly. Jake took his hand, intertwining their fingers.

 

“Hi, sweetie,” Jake said softly.

 

Dirk looked down at his chest, gently grabbing at his neck with his free hand. He traced one half of a necklace and finger spelled “where?”

 

“Oh. I have it here.” Jake undid it from around his neck and fastened it around Dirk's. Dirk looked down at it and touched it lightly, rolling it between his fingers. When he looked back up at Jake, he had tears on his cheeks. Jake gently wiped them away with his thumbs. Dirk took a quiet breath. He turned away from Jake, toying with his ring again.

 

After a little while, a doctor came by and looked Dirk over and told them they could leave. She disconnected him from the IV and the heart monitor and then left them to collect the rest of their things.

 

“Do you want to get dressed now?” Jake asked. “Roxy brought you some clothes.”

 

Dirk nodded. Jake handed him his jeans and he pulled them on under his hospital gown. He tugged the gown the rest of the way off, exposing his pale, narrow chest. Jake could see the outline of his ribs and his hipbones when he stood up. He helped him put his head through the hole of the sweater Roxy had picked out. When he put his arms through the sleeves, only his fingers showed at the ends. Dirk curled his fingers over the frayed edges and gently touched one of his wrists. He sat back down and carefully pulled on his shoes. He stood up again and stepped towards Jake, wrapping his arms around his neck as the other man hugged him.

 

“I'm so glad you're ok,” Jake whispered.

 

Dirk still couldn't speak, so instead he nuzzled his face into Jake's neck. He pulled back, resting his hand flat against Jake's chest.

 

“You ready?”

 

Dirk nodded. He slipped his hand into Jake's and they left the room, going down to the front desk so they could sign the discharge papers. Dirk sat in the waiting room, staring out the window. He looked down at his hands, curled into loose fists in his lap. His fingernails still had dried blood under them. Carefully, he rolled up his left sleeve, exposing his wrists. He paused for a moment when he saw the bandages, his chest aching dully. Shaking his head a bit, he pushed his sleeve up the rest of the way until he could see the white hospital band he still had on. Strider, Dirk. 27. Male. He closed his eyes and sighed softly.

 

“Are you ready?”

 

Dirk looked up at Jake and nodded. He stood and the two of them went outside. Jane was waiting outside by her car. When she saw Dirk, she smiled sadly.

 

“Can I have a hug?” she asked gently as they approached.

 

Dirk didn't reply. As he stared at her, he stepped towards Jake and gently grabbed his arm.

 

“Dirk,” Jake said.

 

Dirk turned his face away from Jane, his cheeks burning.

 

“Maybe later,” he heard Jake say somewhat apologetically.

 

“It's ok. I get it. Things have been stressful.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her tilt her head a little to the side. To Dirk she said, “I'm just glad you're ok.”

 

Dirk pressed his face against Jake's arm. He climbed into the backseat with him, leaning on him the whole ride home. When they got there, Dirk stood outside as Jake said goodbye to Jane.

 

“Thank you again,” he said, turning to wave at her. “See you soon.”

 

Jane waved and then pulled away. Dirk kept his eyes down as Jake pushed open the door and gestured for him to follow. When he walked in, he relaxed a little bit, calmed by the familiarity. He padded into the living room, his arms wrapped loosely around his waist, as Jake closed and locked the front door. He sat down on the couch and carefully pulled off his shoes. He lay down, folding his arms under his head.

 

“Do you want to-- Dirk?” Dirk heard footsteps and then Jake squatted down to look at him. “Are you ok?”

 

Dirk nodded.

 

“Are you tired? Do you want to go to bed?”

 

Dirk shook his head. He moved to press his hand against his eye. “I'm...” he whispered. “I'm s... s-sorry...”

 

“Sweetie,” Jake said softly. Dirk started trembling as he began crying and Jake gently brushed back his hair. “Oh, love. Don't be sorry. I'm not mad.”

 

“N-n-no, I... I-I d-d-did a b-b-- B-bad--” Dirk started crying harder. “B-bad...”

 

“That's not true. Come here.” Dirk sat up and Jake hugged him, rubbing his back and combing his fingers through his hair. “You didn't do anything wrong. You're not bad. I promise. You just... need a little help. That's all. And that's not a bad thing.”

 

Dirk whimpered softly, pressing his face into Jake's neck.

 

“You're gonna be ok, love. I promise,” Jake murmured.

 

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter dirk isnt in any immediate pain or suffering so its automatically better than the past 7 chapters


	16. Ruins (Chapter 15)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bullshit ass....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahah back @ it again w the trigger warnings ;) bc i love it when this boy suffers
> 
> !!!!tw!!!! disordered eating/emetophobia
> 
> *this is not finished and i actually mean its not finished im not done hyper fixating on it yet so expect an update within the next few days

Dirk was coughing. Hard, loud, painful hacks that made the middle of his back ache sharply. He was trying to catch his breath, but it wasn't working. He was kneeling in the leaf litter, one of his hands braced against the ground. He was outside, in the woods behind the fence. He was shivering, despite the balmy air.

 

Nestled in a little depression on the ground in front of him was a fist sized pool of vomit.

 

Dirk had accidentally inhaled a bit of saliva. He was trying to catch his breath, but it was taking longer than he wanted. He couldn't be gone for too long. There was still more. He knew it.

 

Dirk closed his eyes, gripping at the leaves beneath his hand as he slowly managed to take in one heaving breath after the other. Ok. Good. This was good. He let his head hang for a little bit, exhaustion starting to set in. He couldn't quit, though. Not now. He was close. He was so close.

 

Dirk put his first two fingers back into his mouth. They were already slick with vomit and saliva. He ignored the taste. He pushed them back, opening his mouth as wide as he could, until he reached the back of his throat and his whole body tensed as he gagged. He heard a soft splash as a burning mixture of acid and bile and a tiny amount of food came rushing up his throat, over his hand, and onto the ground. The puddle grew a bit larger. Dirk pushed his fingers back again and again and again, until his throat was on fire and he felt absolutely sure there was no food left in his stomach. Dirk stayed there for a few moments, panting again. There were tears in his eyes and on his cheeks.

 

Years. It had been years that he'd been doing this. He couldn't remember ever purposefully throwing up as a child--Dave would've chastised him for it to no end, he was sure--but he could distinctly remember being hunched over the toilet in the guest bathroom of Jane and Roxy's apartment, vomiting from fear like he usually did, and finding that he didn't quite mind it. Sure, it left him out of breath and shaking, but other than that it was... alright. A few weeks later, in a fit of depression and frustration, he wandered back to the bathroom and stuck his fingers down his throat for the first time. Not much came up, and he had to pause and rest for almost five minutes, but he had done it and it had felt... ok. Good, even. The dull burning of stomach acid in his throat distracted him from how he was feeling before, and he found that neither Jane nor Roxy even suspected a thing after he came back out. It was good. It was perfect.

 

Over the next few months, he went returned to the bathroom, not every day but at least once a week, where he would shove his fingers to the back of his throat, vomit as much as he could, and then leave. He found it was easier on a full stomach, which was a struggle considering how little he ate in the first place. Slowly, though, he solved this by eating a little more just when he felt sad, just so he would have something to throw up. It was like a ritual, almost. It made him feel better, and still no one had a clue.

 

But then. One day.

 

Dirk was in the bathroom, trying to get up the last of what he'd eaten, when he heard a knock on the bathroom door. It was Jane. She'd heard him and wanted to make sure he was ok. Dirk didn't reply. He rarely spoke after these sessions, because his voice would sound too raspy all of a sudden. Instead, he stared at the mess he'd made in the toilet as he heard Jane push open the door. He'd forgotten to lock it as well.

 

Jane had been quiet as she took in the scene. After a few seconds she whispered, almost nervously, “Dirk...?”

 

Dirk tensed. He couldn't speak. _She can't tell,_ he told himself over and over again. _She thinks you're just sick. She doesn't know. How could she possibly know?_

 

“Are you... ok?” Jane asked softly.

 

Dirk hung his head, almost resting it on the lip of the toilet seat. He nodded.

 

“Are you sure?”

 

He nodded again. The taste of vomit in his mouth was growing stale and disgusting.

 

“Oh. Alright.” Jane had stepped back once and then slowly shut the door. Dirk had been too paranoid about Jane coming back, and he couldn't finish. He knew he shouldn't have hated Jane just for caring about him, but he did. He couldn't help it. This habit was important to him. He was doing it three times a week by then.

 

So he got careful. He learned how to do it quieter, and faster. He hid food in his room, in case he wanted to do it but hadn't eaten enough. He started wearing baggier clothes to hide how gaunt his body was starting to look. The weight loss wasn't intentional, but once Dirk noticed it, he became obsessed. He started eating even less than usual; the only time he ever felt full was when he ate before he purged. He had goals, nothing too drastic but enough that he still had to work for it: 110 pounds. 105. 100. He liked being at an even number more than he did odd. He was doing it every day now. It was almost all he could think about, when he'd get to do it next and how much he would eat when he did and how long he'd have before Jane or Roxy noticed he was gone. His hair started getting dry and stiff and falling out. His skin and his nails started to smell permanently like vomit. He got headaches almost every day and whenever he stood his head spun wildly, enough so that he had to sit down so he didn't pass out.

 

But he didn't stop. He _couldn't_ stop. It was his thing, his way of coping with all the memories and the flashbacks. When he was retching, he couldn't hear the shouting; when he was shivering, he couldn't feel the bruises. This body, this new one he was creating, it wasn't the same one his father had detested. It was different. _He_ was different. This was finally letting him distance himself from all the abuse and trauma. Doing this made him feel halfway decent, even if just for a little while. After he did it, when he was leaning over the toilet seat, panting and trembling and covered in sweat, the sour smell of his own vomit wafting into his face, he felt calm. He felt satisfied knowing it was his doing, that he was finally having an actual effect on himself and his body and his life. It was bad. He was destroying himself. He was killing himself, really. But he didn't care.

 

Jane and Roxy had finally noticed after about a year. Roxy had walked in on him too, but she was the first one to connect the dots. They tried to talk to him. He ignored them. Things got tense in the apartment. Roxy tried to make him stop, by sitting with him after meals and watching so he couldn't go and purge. He started resenting her. Jane was much more passive. He could tell when she'd heard him; she would look at him with a sad kind of look on her face after he came out. He started resenting her too. He started resenting everyone. He hated how they cared about him. It didn't matter if he was hurting himself by doing all this. This was all he had. This was all that mattered to him. As painful and difficult as it was, he wanted it. He _needed_ it.

 

Soon enough he was doing it at least twice a day. His voice had become permanently gravelly.

 

And then. He met Jake. And all of a sudden everything felt... different. Jake made him feel different. He made him feel ok. _Good_ , even. Good enough that he felt like he didn't need to purge. Jane and Roxy were thrilled. When they started officially dating, he got better. Not by a ton, but even just a little was enough. He went from twice a day to just a few times a week. He gained a few pounds. He set up new rules for himself, suddenly terrified that Jake would find out and think it was disgusting. He couldn't do it when Jake was around or if he was coming by soon or if he had just left. He couldn't let himself associate it with Jake even in the slightest. He couldn't do it if they went on a date to a restaurant (which was rare but it happened from time to time). He couldn't do it at Jake's apartment. That was forbidden. Even if he slipped up on the others, this was the one that he was most adamant about following. He absolutely could not run the risk of Jake catching him and finding out this disgusting secret of his. Otherwise, Jake was sure to leave him and he would be alone forever, because maybe he was desirable to Jake for some reason but he knew he wasn't to anyone else.

 

Eventually, they moved in. Life was good for them. Dirk had gained almost 20 pounds and he was only purging once or twice a week. It was good. He felt good with Jake. He felt... stable. Or at least... he thought he did. Ever since he met Jake, since he'd been consciously trying to stop, he'd had urges. A desire to shovel as much food as he could into his mouth and then puke it all back up so he could feel the burning in his throat, the uncomfortable fullness in his belly, the shivers that wracked his body with each heave. He missed it, almost. He'd come to love the way it felt. And he had done a pretty good job ignoring the urges, but one afternoon, his head so clouded with depression and numbness that he barely knew where he was, he drifted into the kitchen and the next thing he knew he was kneeling in front of the toilet, clawing desperately at the back his throat with his two fingers, vomit all over his hand and his chin and the toilet seat, gasping for breath.

 

And then he just... fell apart.

 

He didn't tell Jake. He didn't tell anyone. It was still _his_ thing after all. No one had to know he was struggling again. No one had to know he had slipped up. No one had to know. Slowly, he fell back into his old habits. Thankfully, Jake was at work most of the day, so Dirk could purge as many times as he wanted and for as long as he wanted while he was gone. He could fast for hours if he wanted to. He discovered that pacing helped him ignore the hunger pains. He lost the weight he had gained in less than a month, and he dipped below where he'd been before within two months. 106. 102. 98. Maybe Jake noticed; Dirk wouldn't have been able to tell anyways. This was consuming him again, stealing his every waking moment. It was a ritual, a horrible, monotonous ritual: wake up. Wait for Jake to leave. Binge. Purge. Repeat ad nauseam until Jake came home. Purge again if Jake made him eat dinner. Collapse into bed an hour and a half before Jake, just because he was always so exhausted. Sleep for an hour or two or three and then wake up in the middle of the night and lie there for another 90 minutes, debating how loud it would be if he got up and got something to eat so he could purge again. Eventually pass out again, be it at 2am or 4:40. Repeat the whole thing over again. It was all he did these days. It was all that mattered to him.

 

Like he'd suspected, Jake caught on quickly. He could tell from the way he would pull back in surprise for a split second whenever he put his arms around his waist, surprised by how small he was getting. Hugs from him were gentler now, as if Dirk were delicate china. He had to have noticed the smell of vomit that perpetually trailed him now. A few times, Dirk felt Jake smooth his thumb over one of the scars on his knuckles from years of scraping them on his front teeth. Eventually, Jake tried to talk to him about it. He'd known for months, but he just wanted to confirm it. Dirk had started tuning him out after he said that. Not him. Not him too.

 

Slowly, Jake tried to stop him. He came home early a few days a week. He started checking the cabinets and the fridge when he came home, to see how much Dirk had eaten. He checked the bathrooms for any signs of him having thrown up. Dirk got careful again. He hoarded food around the house again and after he purged he made sure to clean the bathroom as well as he could. He couldn't risk Jake catching him again.

 

This made Jake upset. They fought over it time and time again. Jake asked him why, why he kept doing this when he'd already told him to stop, why he kept doing it even though he knew damn well that it was killing him. Dirk never had an answer. Even he himself didn't know. Slowly, helplessly, he started to resent Jake and his efforts too, just like he'd resented Jane and Roxy. He hated him for ruining it for him. He hated him for policing him and trying to make him stop. He hated him for caring.

 

And he hated himself too for hating him. With every surge of anger he felt when Jake asked him when the last time had been or how low his weight was now, he felt an immediate wave of overwhelming guilt as well. He loved Jake. He loved him so much it almost hurt sometimes. He wasn't supposed to hate him. He didn't _want_ to hate him. He wanted to love Jake and for Jake to love him and for there to be no tension or hardship between them. But this... thing. He needed it. He couldn't give it up, no matter how much he wanted things to be ok between them. Without it, he would collapse. He knew it.

 

So he just... gave up. He let it consume him. He knew he wasn't strong enough to try and stop, not without risking even worse repercussions. He was doing it at least four times a day now, like clockwork. He'd long since reached his lowest weight ever (97.8) and now he was struggling to get even lower. He'd never had this much trouble losing just one pound. He was constantly cold, shivering in his hoodies even when it was 80° out. His throat hurt all the time. He got out of breath just walking down the street. He was dying, he thought. He didn't care. He'd started purging in the woods so that Jake wouldn't catch him, although he knew Jake knew he was never just going for a walk. He still felt guilty after he purged, though, as much as he didn't want to. He was miserable.

 

Dirk coughed again, sitting back on his heels. He was trembling harder now, tears steadily rolling down his cheeks and dripping off his chin. He was filthy and he stank of vomit and everything hurt and the guilt of it all was starting to creep up on him again, making his chest tight and his stomach feel sick. He was tired of this. He was tired of having to do this. But at the same time, he couldn't stop. He was stuck.

 

Dirk wiped his mouth on his sleeve, trying to calm down enough to go back. Jake would know for sure if he came back sobbing like this. Not that he was really all too keen on going back home anyways. He didn't know how Jake would react. Usually, he was decent about it--he didn't yell or shame Dirk for it and he'd comfort him if he did start crying--but sometimes, he would get frustrated, too frustrated to care about protecting Dirk's feelings, and he wouldn't stop asking why. _Why won't you stop? Why won't you just listen to me? Why don't you realize I'm only trying to keep you safe? Why don't you realize this is killing you?_ Dirk never had an answer for him. It always just made him cry instead.

 

Dirk got to his feet slowly, shaking like a leaf. He had to go slowly, and even then his head started spinning wildly enough that he had to grapple for the tree beside him. He nearly collapsed again anyways, his legs too weak to hold him up. He stood there for a few minutes, eyes closed as his head started throbbing painfully. Eventually, after a few minutes, he managed to stand without falling, and he went back, back through the fence and their backyard and the back door. Jake wasn't there waiting for him. He was in the bedroom, reading a book on the bed. When Dirk walked in, he looked up.

 

“Hey,” he said. “You're back.”

 

Dirk didn't say anything. He climbed into bed beside Jake, sliding his arms around his neck. Jake automatically hugged him back, his arms easily encircling his thin waist. Dirk squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his face into Jake's shoulder.

 

“Hi, love,” Jake murmured, a tiny bit of confusion on his voice. “Are you alright?”

 

Dirk gripped Jake's shoulder harder, his chest getting tight as tears stung at his eyes again. He started shivering a bit.

 

“Sweetie...” Jake shifted, and Dirk heard him sniff once before he fell silent. Dirk started shaking again as he began to sob. Jake didn't say anything. After a few moments, he hugged Dirk closer to him, still being gentle as not to hurt him.

 

“Oh, Dirk,” he whispered.

 

Dirk let out a raspy, choked sob, crying so hard now that he could barely breathe.

 

“Shh, shh, it's ok, baby. You're ok. I'm not mad at you. No one’s mad at you,” Jake said softly. “No one's mad.”

 

Dirk tried to speak, but it just made him cry harder. He was hysterical now, so upset now that he was unable to draw in a good breath and it felt like he was suffocating. His chest heaved with each desperate gasp for air. He felt revolting. He felt like a horrible, disgusting creature; something subhuman and filthy. Jake shouldn't have been touching him, or holding him like this. He didn't deserve Jake's comforting words or his embrace or his affection. He didn't deserve any of it. He let go of Jake, wrapping his arms around his stomach, trying to make himself as small as possible.

 

“It's ok, love,” Jake said again. He pressed his lips to the top of Dirk's head and exhaled softly. “You're ok. Just breathe. Just breathe. You're going to be alright.” When Dirk didn't calm down, Jake pulled him into his lap and rocked him gently. He found Dirk's right hand and held it in his left, placing them both on his chest over his heart.

 

“You're gonna be ok.”

  
***


End file.
